r-. 

-s 


•H 


05 


THE  INDIAN  CAPTIVE, 

OR    THE 

LONG  LOST  JACKSON  BOY 


Abducted  from  his  Parents  at  Jackson,  Michigan, 

Aug.  3,  1837,  at  the  tender  age  of  Five  Years. 

Returned  October  19,  1866. 

TWEHTY-NINE  YEARS  WITH  THE  INDIAN  TRIBES  OF  THE  ROCKY  MOUNTAINS 


Edited    Tby-    J.     52. 

JACKSON,    MICHIGAN. 


CHICAGO: 
PUBLISHED  BY  FILLEY  &  BALLAED. 


ise-r. 


Made  by  the  WESTERN  BOOK  MANUFACTUBING  Co.,  80  &  S2  Washington  St. 


LIFE  AND  ADVENTURES 


OF 


WILLIAM  FILLET, 


WHO   WAS 


STOLEN  FROM  HIS  HOME 


m 


JACKSON,  MICE,  BY  THE  INDIANS, 


3d,    1837, 

AND   HIS 

SAFE  RETURN  FROM  CAPTIVITY, 

October    1O,    186G. 

AFTER  AN  ABSENCE  OF  29  YEARS. 


CHICAGO : 

PUBLISHED  BY  FILLEY  &  BALLARD. 


ise-r. 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress  in  the  year  1867,  by  FILLET  &  BALLARD,  in  the  Clerk's 
Office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  TJ.  S.  for  the  Northern  Dist.  of  Illinois. 


JOHN  CONAHAN, 
fctereotyper. 


DEDICATION. 


THE  AUTHOR,  in  presenting  this  (2d)  Edition  to  a  more 
than  generous  public,  MOST  KESPECTFULLY  Dedicates 
this  work  to  that  NOBLE  BAJSDD  of  early  pioneers  of  Michi 
gan,  whose  arduous  and  untiring  efforts  in  the  great  search, 
and  common  sympathies  for  the  "  LONG  LOST  JACKSON«.BOY," 
and  heart  broken  parents,  deserve  the  highest  mark  of  af 
fection,  and  lasting  remembrance. 


PREFACE. 


IN  presenting  this  work  to  the  public,  we  feel  that  we 
are  giving  a  statement  of  facts  which  are  not  only  of  great 
interest,  but  which  will,  in  time,  become  portions  of  the 
Indian  history  of  the  distant  "West.  The  affidavits  and  cer 
tificates  which  are  introductory  to  the  Indian  Boy's  own 
narrative,  are  bona  fide,  the  parties  making  them  being 
respectable  and  reliable  people. 

"We  have  been  particular  in  giving  all  possible  evidence 
as  to  the  identity  of  the  long  lost  boy,  that  no  possible 
doubt  may  remain;  but  feeling  that  a  better  idea  can  be 
obtained  from  his  own  story,  have  not  attempted  to  minutely 
describe  many  of  the  scenes  through  which  he  passed.  "We, 
therefore,  in  the  following  pages,  submit  the  evidence  and 
the  narrative. 


CONTENTS 


JSTTRODUCTION. 

Mrs.  Mount's  statement — Grandison  Filley's  statement — Certificates  of  prominent 
citizens  of  Jackson — Statement  of  Daniel  M.  Lyons — Of  Ammi  Filley — Child  Lost 
(poem)— Particulars  of  the  loss  of  the  boy  William  Filley— The  search— The  sus 
pense — The  agonized  mother  and  family — Death  of  the  mother— Mr.  Filley's  trip 
to  Connecticut — Hope  revived — A  boy  found — Letter.from  Hon  A.  F.  Collins,  rel 
ative  to  a  child  supposed  to  be  the  lost  William  Filley— Reply  of  Abel  F.  Fitch- 
Affidavits  and  certificates  of  citizens  of  the  States  of  New  York,  substantiating 
the  opinion  of  Mr.  Collins— Letter  from  the  lost  boy— Description  of  the  city  of 
Jackson — His  return,  unique  appearance,  experiences,  etc. — His  hearty  welcome 
at  Jackson— Life  and  wanderings  during  captivity— The  poem"0ntwa"— Oregon- 
Mary  Mount,  the  supposed  murderess  of  the  boy. 

CHAPTER  I. 

Apology — Early  recollections  and  treatment — First  information  as  to  his  nativity — 
Return — Selection  of  James  Z.  Ballard  to  edit*  this  book — Camping-ground  of  the 
Indians  near  Fort  Kearney — Indian  Habits — The  warlike  and  blood-thirsty  Siouxs 
— Burning  of  a  pappoose — A  squaw  experiments  on  a  pappoose  with  boiling  water 
—Horrible  cruelty— The  death  penalty. 

CHAPTER  II. 

Disadvantages — Finding  of  gold  in  California — Early  school  houses — Sent  to  school 
— Difficulty  in  learning — Taken  from  school — Dislike  to  leaving  pale  face  associa 
tions—Return  to  bondage— Punishment  of  Indian  children— Desire  to  be  transferred 
from  Big  Crow  and  Walla  Walla  tribes  to  the  Camanche  tribe. 

CHAPTER  IH. 

The  transfer  effected — Adoption — Made  a  Chief  and  head  Medicine  man — Liberty — 
Surmises  concerning  relatives — Occupation  as  second  Chief— Inability  of  the  In 
dian  •  to  understand  English— Friendship  and  love  of  the  Indians— How  to  jerk 
meat — Panther  hunting  and  its  dangers — Torture  of  panther  whelps — A  panther 
fight — Distressing  situation — Relieved  by  three  pale-faces,escaped  prisoners  from 
the  Osage  Indians — Take  pale-faces  to  my  tribe,  who  kindly  treat  them  and  suffer 
them  to  go  on  their  way— The  Osage  Indians— Their  manners  and  customs— Their 
cruelty— Tortures— Roasting  a  pappose— Religion  of  the  Osages. 


VI  CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER  IV. 

Life  in  the  Rocky  Mountains— Mayriage  and  its  peculiarities— A  good  opening  foi 
wife  deserters — Dress  of  the  Indians — He  induces  the  squaws  to  adopt  the  pale 
face  style  of  dressing— Becomes  a  modiste — Camping-grounds — Trading  post — 
Astoria— Its  location— Indigenous  growth  of  tobacco,  quality,  etc— The  Caman- 
che  tribe— Savage  Indians— The  Arrapahoes— Their  filthy  habits— Revengefulness 
Tortures — Their  superstitions. 

CHAPTER  V. 

Indian  tribes— Their  ignorance— Enlightening  them— Their  cruelty— Murder— An 
attack— Poisoned  arrows— Experiments— Panthers— Their  habits— Their  tenacity 
of  life — Value  of  their  skins  for  moccasins — Abundance  of  the  antelope — Superior 
ity  of  the  skins  of  the  elk  and  moose — Their  scarcity — Fishing. 

CHAPTER  VI. 

His  similarity  to  the  red  man— His  tenacity  of  purpose— Saying  the  lives  01  white 
men — Comparison  of  the  laws  of  the  whites  and  Indians — Honesty  of  the  same 
compared — Religion  of  the  Indians — Their  profession  and  practice — Similarity  to 
the  ancient  Jews — Their  burnt -offerings — Their  chants,  etc,  etc. — Big  trees  in  the 
Rocky  Mountains — The  stories  concerning  them  disputed— No  trees  more  than  12 
or  15  feet  in  diameter. 

CHAPTER  VII. 

A  stroll — Warm  weather — A  strange  light — Curiosity — Search  for  the  mystery — Im- 
inent  danger — Renewed  search — Discovery  of  a  cave  containing,  dead  bodies  of 
Indians— Burial  of  the  Indians— Death  dance— Immense  quantities  of  gold. 

CHAPTER  VHL 

Hunting  the  North  American  or  California  Lion — Well  trained  horses — Ferocity  of 
the  lions — The  Indian  manner  of  attacking  them — An  adventure  with  two  of 
them — Severely  wounded. 

CHAPTER  IX. 

Hunting  for  grizzly  bears— Balling  and  flaying  the  pelts— An  attack  in  their  dens— 
A  hugging  scene— Lost  in  a  cave— Long  suffering  among  the  rocks— Enjoyments 
of  the  bears. 

CHAPTER  X. 

Dirty  tribes — Frog  and  snake  eaters — B,lood-suckers— Rocky  Mountain  sheep  and 
goats— Wild  animals  of  the  Mountains— Enemies  of  th&  goats— Temperature  of 
the  Mountains. 

CONCLUSION 

The  engravings — Recollections — General  remarks,  &c. 

THE  SONG  OP  "THE  LAKE  OE  THE  WHITE  CANOE." 
A  beautiful  poem — Sung  by  the  Indian  captive — His  favorite  song 


MARY  MOUNT. 


INTRODUCTION. 


INTRODUCTION. 

Mrs.  Mount's  statement — Grandison  Filley's  statement — Certificates  of  promi 
nent  citizens  of  Jackson— Statement  of  Daniel  M.  Lyons— Of  Ammi  Filley— 
Child  Lost  (poem)— Particulars  of  the  loss  of  the  boy  William  Filley— The 
search— The  suspense— The  agonized  mother  and  family— Death  of  the  mother 
— Mr.  Filley's  trip  to  Connecticut — Hope  revived — A  boy  found — Letter  from 
Hon  A.  F.  Collins,  relative  to  a  child  supposed  to  be  the  lost  William  Filley 
— Beply  of  Abel  F.  Fitch— Affidavits  and  certificates  of  citizens  of  the  States 
of  New  York,  substantiating  the  opinion  of  Mr.  Collins — Letter  from  the  lost 
boy — Description  of  the  city  of  Jackson — His  return,  unique  appearance,  ex 
periences,  etc. — His  hearty  welcome  at  Jackson — Life  and  wanderings  during 
captivity— The  poem"0ntwa"— Oregon— Mary  Mount,  the  supposed  murder 
ess  of  the  boy. 

MKS.  MOUNT'S  CEBTIFICATE. 

I  hereby  certify  that  I  am  the  mother  of  Mary  Mount,  in 
whose  charge  William  Filley  was  placed  at  the  time  he  was 
lost,  and  that  I  am  now  seventy-two  years  of  age. 

Twenty-nine  years  ago  the  third  day  of  August  last,  Wil 
liam  Filley  accompanied  my  daughter  Mary  to  a  swamp  a 
short  distance  from  my  residence,  for  the  purpose  of  gathering 
whortleberries.  I  remember  well  the  peculiar  style  of  his 
dress,  and  that  some  friendly  hand  had  placed  in  the  button 
hole  of  his  little  coat  some  pinks ;  he  had  with  him  a  piece  of 
paper  with  writing  upon  it,  which  I  learned  he  had  obtained 
from  his  Aunt  Fitch.  William  and  my  daughter  Mary  left 
my  house  a  short  time  after  twelve  o'clock  of  said  third  day 
of  August.  We  endeavored  to  persuade  the  little  fellow  not 


10  LIFE   AM)    ADVENTURES 

to  go,  fearing  that  he  would  be  bitten  by  the  snakes  which 
infested  that  part  of  the  country.  Our  entreaties  were  in 
vain,  and  the  boy  went  along.  After  William  and  Mary  had 
been  absent  a  few  hours,  Mary  returned  to  our  house  and 
made  inquiries  for  William.  Of  course  he  had  not  returned, 
and  our  fears  were  excited,  believing  that  he  had  met  with 
some  untimely  fate.  I  made  inquiries  of  my  daughter  about 
what  had  become  of  the  boy,  and  the  only  explanation  which 
she  could  give  was  that  he  had  become  weary  and  wanted  to 
go  home  ;  that  she  had  led  him  to  a  beaten  track  which  led 
to  our  house,  and  that  this  was  the  last  time  she  had  seen  him. 
Immediately  we  made  a  thorough  search  but  could  find  no 
trace  of  him ;  the  neighborhood  was  aroused  and  diligent 
work  commenced.  That  night  fires  were  built  for  two  rea 
sons  :  First,  believing  that  the  lost  boy  would  see  them  ;  and 
secondly,  that  the  light  would  aid  us  in  our  search.  Fortu 
nately,  there  were  good  brush  and  log  heaps  near  the  swamp, 
which  burned  all  night. 

About  two  miles  in  a  westerly  course,  lived  a  family  named 
Hamilton,  who  reported  that  about  ten  or  eleven  o'clock  of 
that  night,  they  heard  a  strange  noise  resembling  the  stifled 
cry  of  a  child ;  and  near  this  place,  in  the  oak  openings,  was 
found  the  identical  piece  of  letter  paper  which  I  have  hereto 
fore  mentioned.  The  search  was  continued,  and  the  crowd 
gathered  near  the  place  where  this  paper  was  found.  Arrange 
ments  were  immediately  made  as  to  the  disposition  of  the 
force :  The  crowd  formed  a  circle,  enclosing  a  large  space  of 
country,  and  each  man  walked  so  near  his  comrade  that  he 
could  touch  his  person.  In  many  places  in  the  swamp  the 
men  crept  upon  their  hands  and  knees,  turning  over  the  moss 
and  other  substances  which  they  found  in  their  way.  As  the 
circle  shortened  in  distance,  and  on  coming  near  together, 


OF    WILLIAM    FILLET.  1.3 

they  found  three  bears  and  several  deer  which  they  allowed 
to  escape,  not  deeming  it  proper  to  discharge  fire-arms,  as 
this  was  the  signal  agreed  upon  if  the  child  should  be  found. 
For  a  time  attention  was  drawn  from  the  Indian  trails  and 
camping  ground,  owing  to  a  report  put  in  circulation  by  one 
Albert  Crandall,  who  had  succeeded  in  creating  a  suspicion 
that  the  child  had  met  with  some  accident,  and  had  been 
foully  dealt  with  by  my  daughter  Mary.  Consequently  a 
thorough  search  was  made  in  and  around  our  premises  and 
house,  and  some  person  broke  open  our  chests  and  broke  into 
the  tills.  The  ash-heaps  were  turned  over  for  the  purpose  of 
finding  the  bdnes  of  the  child,  if  possible,  and  every  spot  was 
searched  and  re-searched,  in  vain  by  hundreds  of  men.  I 
have  no  doubt  that  there  were  at  least  eight  hundred  persons 
at  this  time  about  our  premises. 

Our  house  was  located  upon  the  banks  of  Fitch's  lake,  a 
beautiful  sheet  of  water,  covering  about  six  hundred  and  forty 
acres  of  land.  This  lake  was  dragged  during  the  day  time, 
and  at  night  was  searched  with  the  aid  of  torchlights  and  small 
rafts,  instead  of  boats,  many  persons  wading  in  from  the  shore. 

Twenty-nine  years  have  passed  away  since  the  memorable 
day  when  William  Filley  left  our  then  quiet  home.  Many  of 
the  early  settlers  of  Jackson  county  are  dead.  I  am  thankful 
that  I  have  been  spared  to  see  that  boy  again,  and  to  have  the 
cloud  of  suspicion  removed  which  hung  over  our  heads.  I 
have  no  doubt  of  the  identity  of  the  person  whose  narrative 
is  contained  in  this  book.  He  is  now  in  the  prime  of  man 
hood.  May  he  long  survive,  and  be  the  staif  of  his  aged 
father,  and  live  in  near  communion  with  that  Great  Spirit 
who  has  thus  far  been  his  guide  in  his  wanderings  with  the 
red  men  of  the  forest. 

LYDIA  MOUNT. 


LIFE  AND  ADVENTURES 


GKANDISON  FILLET'S  CERTIFICATE. 


JACKSON,  November  5,  1866. 

I  hereby  certify  that  I  am  the  uncle  of  William  Filley,  and 
that  I  knew  him  from  his  birth,  until  he  was  stolen  by  the 
Indians  on  the  third  day  of  August,  1837,  he  then  being  five 
years,  one  month,  and  one  day  old.  At  the  age  of  two  years 
"William  was  left  with  me  at  Bloomfield,  in  the  State  of  Con 
necticut. 

At  that  time  Ammi  Filley,  his  father,  was  in  Michigan, 
and  his  mother  was  with  her  father,  Captain  William  Mar 
vin,  in  the  State  of  Massachusetts.  At  Elijah  Filley's  house, 
in  the  State  of  Connecticut,  we  were  picking  apples,  late  in 
the  fall.  William  had  on  an  old  coat  with  long  sleeves, 
somewhat  troublesome  in  picking  up  fruit,  I  took  out  my 
pocket  knife  and  in  cutting  them  off  shorter,  I  accidentally 
cut  his  thumb,  on  his  left  hand,  nearly  off.  I  doubled  up  his 
hand,,  drew  down  the  sleeve,  and  told  him  to  keep  his  hand 
shut.  As  I  drew  the  knife  across  the  sleeve  the  boy  stuck 
out  his  thumb,  and  I  cut  it  diagonally  from  joint  to  joint. 

I  also  certify,  that  I  have  seen,  at  different  times  from  the 
19th  day  of  October,  1866,  until  the  present  date,  a  man 
purporting  to  be  William  Filley,  the  long  lost  boy.  From 
every  feature,  motion,  and  personal  appearance,  I  should 
judge  him  to  be  the  same  one ;  he  has  the  same  large  cut- 
scar  on  his  left  thumb,  and  it  shows  as  plain  as  it  did  thirty 
years  ago.  I  am  positive  upon  this  point,  and  recollect  well 
the  shape  of  the  wound  and  scar. 

GKAJSTDISOK  FILLEY. 


OF  WILLIAM  FILLET. 


15 


CEETIFICATES  BY  CITIZENS  OF  JACKSON. 


We,  the  undersigned  residents  of  the  City  of  Jackson,  and 
State  of  Michigan,  hereby  certify  that  we  were  citizens  of 
said  township  in  the  year  A.  D.  1837,  and  that  on  and  after 
the  third  day  of  August,  in  that  year,  we  went  in  person, 
with  many  hundreds  and  thousands  of  others,  in  fruitless 
search  for  William  Filley,  the  subject  of  this  history,  then  a 
boy  of  five  years  of  age,  supposed  to  have  been  murdered,  or 
stolen  from  his  parents  by  the  Pottawatamies,  a  tribe  of 
Indians  that  shortly  afterwards  moved  from  this  State  to  the 
far  "West ;  that  the  boy's  father  now  survives,  and  recognizes 
his  long  lost  son,  by  his  appearance,  and  by  a  cut-scar  on  his 
thumb,  after  an  absence  of  twenty-nine  years  and  more,  spent 
in  the  Rocky  Mountains. 


Hon.  DAN'L  B.  HIBBARD, 
ALBERT  FOSTER,  Esq., 
WILLIAM  PAGE,  Esq., 
LEWIS  BASCOM,  Esq., 
M.  E.  DWYER,  Esq., 
ISAAC  PETERSON,  Esq., 
T.  ~N.  HENDERSON,  Esq., 
S.  P.  HENDERSON,  Esq% 
JAMES  A.  DYER,  J.  P., 
W.  H.  MONROE,  Esq., 
B.  F.  EGGLESTON,  Esq., 
S.  W.  STOWELL,  Esq., 
PATTON  MORRISON,  Esq., 
D.  T.  DURAND,  Esq., 
G-EO.  FERGUSON,  Esq., 
MARCUS  WAKEMAN,  Esq., 
H.  ANSON,  Esq., 
SAM'L  PETERSON,  Esq., 
DAVID  MARKHAM,  Esq., 


Hon.  WM.  K.  DE!/AND, 
W.  D.  THOMPSON,  Banker, 
JAMES  WELCH,  Esq., 
F.  FARRAND,  Esq., 
ISAAC  SNYDER,  Esq., 

B.  C.  HATCH,  Esq., 
L.  SNYDER,  Jr., 

0.  B.  HARRINGTON,  Esq., 

TEGS.  YREELAND,-Esq., 

WARREN  MOULTON,  Esq., 
CYRUS  HODGKIN,  Esq., 
WM.  P.  WORDEN,  Esq., 

C.  P.  EUSSELL,  Esq., 
ALDEN  HEWETT,  Esq., 
Hon.  A.  H.  DEL.AMATER, 
W.  KNICKERBOCKER,  Esq., 
J.  W.  PRUE,  Esq., 

K  E.  ALLEN,  Esq. 


16  LIFE  AND  ADVENTURES 

We,  the  undersigned,  citizens  of  the  City  of  Jackson,  and 
State  of  Michigan,  hereby  certify  that  we  are  well  acquainted 
with  the  fact  of  William  Filley  being  stolen  by  the  Indians, 
and  of  his  return  from  his  long  captivity. 
Hon.  M.  A.  McNouGHTON,       Hon.  D.  FISHEK, 
J.  E.  BEBE,  Assessor  3d  Dis-    NORMAN  ALLEN,  Esq., 

trict,  Michigan,  W.  GREG,  Esq., 

E.  B.  BRIGHAM,  Esq.,  T.  D.  BTJDINGTON,  Esq., 

A.  I.  HOBORT,  Esq.,  H.  WAKEMAN,  Esq. 

C.  "W ARRESTER,  Esq., 


MR.  LYONS'  CERTIFICATE. 


JACKSON,  November  20th,  1866. 

I  hereby  certify  that  I  am  a  son  of  Dea.  Lyons,  of  East 
Mendon,  Monroe  County,  New  York ;  I  >am  thirty-five  years 
of  age,  and  have  lived  most  of  the  past  sixteen  years  with 
different  Indian  tribes  in  the  far  "West.  I  spent  one  month 
(about  the  time  of  the  war  with  Mexico,)  with  the  Pottawat- 
tamies,  a  tribe  that  had  moved  a  few  years  previous  to  that 
time  from  the  State  of  Michigan.  ^1  also  was  with  said  tribe 
about  six  weeks  in  the  year  1860,  on  the  Missouri  bottoms, 
where  the  river  Platte  runs  through,  and  while  there  I 
learned  from  the  tribe  that  a  white  child  had  been  stolen 
years  before  from  Jackson  County,  Michigan. 

I  am  now  visiting  in  the  city  of  Jackson,  Michigan,  where 
I  shall  remain  for  a  few  days  with  my  friends  and  relatives, 
and  have  learned  that  a  man  has  returned  from  the  Rocky 
Mountains,  and  is  recognized  by  his  father  and  relatives  as 
the  boy  that  was  supposed  to  have  been  stolen  from  his 


OF  WILLIAM  FILLET.  17 

parents  in  1837.  I  also  certify  that  in  the  spring  of  1849,  at 
the  mouth  of  Feather  River,  near  where  now  is  the  city  of 
Marysville,  I  saw  a  white  boy,  apparently  about  seventeen 
or  eighteen  years  of  age,  on  his  way  to  school  with  two 
Indian  chiefs.  One,  the  Big  Crow  Chief,  told  me  they  were 
going  to  leave  him  at  school  in  San  Francisco,  to  learn  the 
English  language.  I  little  thought  that  I  should  ever  have 
an  opportunity  of  conversing  with  him  face  to  face  about  the 
.Rocky  Mountains,  or  talk  Spanish  and  Indian  with  him  at 

the  home  of  his  relatives. 

DANIEL  M.  LYONS. 


STATEMENT  OF  AMMI  FILLET,  THE  FATHER  OF 
WILLIAM  FILLET. 

At  the  request  of  several  persons  who  are  conversant  with 
the  important  facts  relative  to  the  loss  of  my  son  in  the  sum 
mer  of  1837,  I  have  consented  to  make  the  following  state 
ment  :  In  the  month  of  October  last,  while  residing  with  one 
of  my  sons  in  the  State  of  Illinois,  I  received  a  telegram 
from  the  city  of  Jackson,  requesting  my  return  for  the  pur 
pose  of  meeting  my  son,  William  Filley,  whose  strange  and 
simple  story  is  told  in  this  book.  I  immediately  departed 
for  that  city,  and  on  arriving  met  with  a  person  whom  I  be 
lieve  is  my  long  lost  son — my  eldest  one,  and  the  object  of 
my  search  for  many,  many  years.  Although  many  persons 
had  suggested  the  probability  that  my  son  had  been  foully 
v  dealt  with,  I  had  a  vague  idea  that  he  had  been  taken  off  by 
some  of  the  Indian  tribes  who  at  an  early  day  were  wander, 
ing  in  our  woods  in  Michigan.  My  paternal  affection  dic 
tated  to  me  that  it  was  my  duty  to  search  among  the  red 
men  for  my  lost  son.  I  gave  up  my  business  and  became  a 


18  LIFE   AND  ADVENTURES 

wanderer  among  the  Indians.  I  led  a  roving  life  for  many- 
years,  and  during  that  time  visited  the  tribes  of  Indians  in 
Michigan,  Ohio,  Canada,  and  other  portions  of  the  country. 
This  trouble  unsettled  my  plans  of  life  and  deprived  me  of 
that  peace  of  mind  which  all  persons  wish  to  enjoy.  I  am 
fifty-nine  years  old  and  am  travelling  down  the  hill  of  life, 
and  feel  as  if  my  cup  of  happiness  was  filled,  the  great  object 
of  my  ambition  accomplished.  I  have  found  my  lost  son.  I 
sincerely  thank  my  friends  who  have  rendered  me  so  much 
assistance  and  who  have  sympathized  with  me  in  my  afflic 
tion.  May  they  live  long  and  enjoy  that  happiness  which 

belongs  to  a  well-ordered  life. 

AMMI  FILLET. 


A  CHILD  IS  LOST. 


OH,  KINSMEN,  neighbors,  friends,  our  child  is  lost ! 
The  night  is  falling ;  help,  for  love  of  God ! 
In  fruitless  search  the  fields  we've  trod, 

And,  vainly,  every  trail  and  path  we've  crossed. 
The  mother's  heart  is  breaking ;  friends  take  pity — 

Forth,  quickly  forth,  and  scour  the  darkening  woods. 

A  child  is  lost !  a  tiny,  tottering  one, 

Whose  age  is  scarcely  reckoned  yet  by  years ; 

Whose  feet  but  little  time  have  learned  to  run ; 

Whose  words  are  simple  words,  in  accent  broken. 

He  scarce  can  tell  his  name,  nor  where  he  dwells, 

Or  else  his  words  so  modestly  are  spoken 

That  strangers  cannot  understand  the  tale  he  tells. 

The  slow  and  solemn  clock  tolls  forth  eleven ; 

Again  it  strikes,  'tis  midnight  now !     How  fearfully  the 

hour 

Trembles  upon  the  calm,  quiescent  air 
As  many  a  wearied  seeker  homeward  speeds, 
To  bid  the  mourning  mother  trust  in  Heaven, 
And,  on  her  couch,  to  seek  the  rest  she  needs. 

Oh !  can  I  sleep  when  he  is  still  unfound — 
A  helpless  lamb  that's  wander'd  from  the  fold ; 
And  he,  perhaps,  is  crying,  tired,  and  hungry, 
Or  sleeps,  to  die,  upon  the  cold,  cold  ground  ? 
How  can  I  rest,  when  I,  perchance,  shall  see 
E~o  more  the  child  whom  God  once  gave  to  me  ? 
Comfort  me,  kind  neighbors,  leave  me  not  forlorn ; 
Is  there  no  hope  ?     Is  life  henceforth  to  be 
Of  joy,  and  peace,  and  pleasant  memories  shorn? 
Pity  me,  friends,  in  mine  extremity. 


22  LIFE   AND   ADVENTURES 

PARTICULARS  OF  THE  LOSS  OF  WILLIAM  FILLET. 

There  are  many  interesting  incidents  connected  with  the 
life  of  this  individual  that  are  worthy  of  a  place  in  "  Ameri 
can  History." 

Ammi  Filley,  father  of  William,  removed  from  Hartford 
County,  Connecticut,  in  the  year  1833,  to  the  oak  openings 
of  Michigan,  and  located  with  his  family  in  the  township  of 
Jackson,  then  a  wilderness.  By  industry  and  economy  he 
soon  became  the  possessor  of  a  good  farm.  Although  sur 
rounded  by  Indian  tribes  they  had  no  fear,  as  all  were  appa 
rently  friendly. 

It  was  on  the  third  day  of  August,  A.  D.  1837,  that  Wil 
liam  Filley,  then  a  child  of  the  tender  age  of  five  years,  one 
month  and  one  day,  went  out  to  a  swamp  near  by  with  a 
hired  girl  by  the  name  of  Mary  Mount,  to  gather  berries. 
The  swamp  was  between  the  house  of  Mr.  Filley  and  the 
dwelling  of  Mr.  Mount,  the  father  of  the  girl.  After  picking 
berries  for  a  time,  little  William  expressed  a  wish  to  go 
home.  Whereupon  the  girl  led  him  to  the  trail  and  pointed 
out  the  way  to  her  father's  house,  which  was  in  sight.  Not 
doubting,  as  the  house  was  in  plain  sight,  only  a  few  rods 
distant,  that  the  little  fellow  would  reach  it  in  perfect  safety, 
she  returned  to  the  swamp. 

After  completing  her  supply  of  berries,  she  went  to  the 
house  of  her  father,  and  found,  to  her  astonishment,  as  well 
as  to  that  of  her  family,  that  the  little  boy  put  in  her  charge 
had  not  returned ;  neither  had  he  been  to  the  home  of  his 
parents.  Whereupon  an  alarm  was  immediately  given  and 
all  the  inhabitants  commenced  a  most  diligent  search  for  the 
lost  child,  and  continued  their  untiring  efforts  by  day  and 
night  for  weeks.  Every  pond  and  stream  was  dragged  and 


OF  WILLIAM  FILLET.  25 

examined,  and  every  rod  of  ground  scrutinized  to  an  extent 
of  more  than  twenty  miles  around. 

As  an  inducement  to  continue  the  search,  notice  Df  the 
event  was  given  in  the  papers,  and  large  rewards  offered  for 
the  recovery  of  the  child,  either  dead  or  alive.  Gold  and 
silver  was  offered  to  the  different  Indian  tribes  in  large  sums 
by  disinterested  persons. 

Mr.  Filley's  voice  was  heard  late  at  night  and  early  in  the 
morning  calling,  William !  William !  That  familiar  name 
was  echoed  from  lake  to  lake,  and  from  Green  Bay  to  Ohio ! 
The  distracted  father  went  in  person  all  over  the  wilds  of 
Michigan,  Wisconsin,  and  Iowa,  visiting  many  tribes  of 

Indians. 

All  along  the  Grand  Kiver 
And  adown  the  shady  glen, 
On  the  hill  and  in  the  valley, 
Were  the  graves  of  dusky  men. 

Fears  were  entertained  that  the  Indians  were  not  well 
pleased  with  the  way  the  pale  faces  had  ploughed  up  their 
burying  grounds,  and  that  in  the  wilds  of  some  inhospitable 
region,  where  foot  of  white  man  had  never  trod,  the  boy  had 
fallen  a  sacrifice  to  the  vengeance  of  some  infuriated  savage. 

No  discovery  could  the  father  make  and  no  tidings  learn. 
Returning  in  sorrow  to  his  family,  all  were  heart-broken,  as 
the  last  ray  of  hope  was  extinguished.  The  fond  parents 
*ave  up  their  firstborn  child  as  forever  lost. 

Of  purest  joy,  of  life  itself, 
'Twere  sad,  indeed,  to  say 
How  much  of  all,  lost  William  I 
Has  passed  with  thee  away. 

Can  you  imagine  a  sadder  scene  ?     Such  agony  of  afflic 
tion  seldom  falls  to  the  lot  of  man.     If  the  shaft  of  death  had 
2 


26  LITE   AND  ADVENTURES 

smitten  down  this  their  darling  boy,  and  they  had  passed 
through  the  funeral  solemnities  and  seen  him  laid  in  the 
grave  of  their  own  church-yard,  time  would  have  tempered 
their  grief  and  mitigated  the  anguish  of  their  bereavement ; 
but  the  painful  suspense,  the  awful  uncertainty  that  hung 
over  his  fate  was  an  abiding  sorrow  which  time  would  not 
soften,  and  earth  had  no  balm  to  heal.  Time  rolled  on,  but 
"William  was  not  forgotten.  r  • 

The  mournful  event,  with  its  aggravating  circumstances, 
was  a  corroding  canker  on  the  comforts  of  the  family,  causing 
the  fatal  disease  which  seized  the  Christian  mother  as  she 
went  down  in  sorrow  to  an  untimely  grave.  "  Imagination 
portrays  the  Guardian  Angel,  suspended  equi-distant  'be 
tween  earth  and  the  blue  azure  of  Heaven,  with  her  wings 
folded."  The  tear  was  on  her  cheek  as  she  looked  down 
upon  the  pitiful  scene  of  the  mother,  gazing  on  each  fond 
face  as  they  clustered  around  her  bedside.  But  one  was 
not — her  first-born !  The  dying  mother  whispers,  "  Where 
is  he  ?"  The  wild  winds  in  and  around  that  dismal  swamp, 
with  their  sepulchral  voice,  take  up  the  dirge  and  echo, 
"  Where,  O  !  where  is  he  ? " 

This  worthy  and  beautiful  woman  was  the  oldest  child  of 
Captain  "William  Marvin,  a  wealthy  and  very  respectable 
citizen  of  East  Granville,  Hamden  County,  Massachusetts, 
after  whom  "William  was  named. 

Subsequent  to  the  death  of  his  wife,  Mr.  Filley  visited  the 
State  of  Connecticut,  the  place  of  his  nativity.  "While  there, 
by  a  miraculous  course  of  events  beyond  the  comprehension 
of  human  wisdom  to  fathom,  a  boy  had  been  found  in  the 
possession  of  a  party  of  Indians  in  the  city  of  Albany  and 
State  of  JSTew  York. 

The  circumstance  being  made  known  to  the  municipal  au- 


OF   WILLIAM   FILLET.  27 

thorities,  the  migrating  party  were  arrested,  and  all  measures 
taken  to  compel  them  -to  disclose  the  means  by  which  they 
came  in  possession  of  the  child.  They  were  alternately  flat 
tered  and  threatened,  but  no  disclosure  could  be  obtained, 
and  they  seemed  resolved  to  submit  to  any  punishment 
rather  than  make  communication  by  which  the  paternity  of 
the  child  could  be  ascertained.  They  were  therefore  dis 
charged,  and  the  child  humanely  placed  in  the  Orphan  Asy 
lum.  From  thence  he  was  taken  to  Mr.  Filley's  friends  in 
New  England.  He  could  tell  of  being  in  Green  Bay,  and  of 
riding  on  a  steamboat.  He  accompanied  them  in  their  wan 
derings,  and  was  used  as  a  mendicant  to  supply  himself 'with 
clothes  and  the  wandering  party  with  food,  when  their  indo 
lence  prevented  their  obtaining  it  any  other  way.  In  the 
summer  they  made  their  peregrinations  back  and  forth 
through  Michigan  and  New  York,  sometimes  visiting  Con 
necticut.  In  the  winter  they  usually  quartered  themselves 
in  wigwams  in  the  vicinity  of  some  village  and  lived  on 
game.  He  remembered  living  near  Detroit,  Catskill,  Hud 
son,  and  Hillsdale.  In  their  wanderings  in  summer  and 
winter,  he  travelled  barefoot,  suffering  in  winter  from  cold, 
and  at  all  times  from  hunger  and  fatigue.  The  kindness  of 
his  Indian  sister,  who,  like  a  second  Pocahontas,  took  un 
wearied  pains  to  mitigate  his  sufferings,  made  his  captivity 
more  endurable. 

"When  all  friends  acquainted  with  the  circumstances  were 
rendering  up  grateful  thanks  to  God,  the  author  of  all  good, 
for  this  marvellous  dispensation  of  His  providence,  the  fol 
lowing  letter,  from  Mr.  Collins,  at  that  time  Member  of  Con 
gress,  was  received  by  the  supposed  grandfather  of  the  child : 

HILLSDALE,  NEW  YORK,  February  13,  1845. 
Captain  WILLIAM  MARVIN — 

DEAR  SIR  :   Having  seen  in  the  New  York  Evening  Post, 


28  LIFE   AND   ADVENTTJEES 

a  statement  extracted  from  the  Hartford  City  Times,  in  rela- 
.  tion  to  the  loss  and  finding  of  the  child  of  Ammi  Filley,  of 
Michigan,  I  read  it  with  that  interest  which  such  a  statement 
would  naturally  excite ;  but  at  the  conclusion,  when  the 
names  of  the  Indian  family  were  mentioned,  and  the  account 
given  that  they  had  been  for  a  time  residents  of  this  town,  it 
seemed  to  me,  from  what  I  had  seen  and  heard,  that  Mr. 
Filley  must  be  mistaken  as  to  the  identity  of  the  child.  I 
have  since  made  further  inquiries  and  am  confirmed  in  the 
opinion  that  Mr*  Filley  is  mistaken.  During  the  summer  of 
1833,  an  Indian  family,  including  a  white  child,  apparently 
two  or  three  years  of  age,  took  up  their  abode  in  a  forest 
about  two  miles  from  my  place  of  residence.  I  often  saw 
them,  and  upon  inquiring,  I  learned  the  name  of  the  Indian 
to  be  Paul,  and  that  of  the  squaw  to  be  Phebe.  I  understood 
the  child  to  be  the  son  of  the  squaw  and  his  father  to  be  a 
white  man  of  the  town  of  Copake,  in  this  county.  Those 
Indians  were  living  in  this  town  in  the  summer  of  1843,  and 
during  the  winter  of  1844,  and  left  in  the  spring  of  that  year. 

I  am  now  told  that  those  Indians  resided  in  the  towns  of 
Copake  and  Hillsdale  most  of  the  time  from  1835  to  the 
spring  of  1843.  I  am  also  told,  by  one  of  the  most  respecta 
ble  men  of  Copake,  that  he  frequently  saw  the  child  from  the 
period  of  a  few  months  old,  while  it  nursed  from  its  mother, 
and  that  the  child  did,  for  a  short  time,  attend  the  District 
School  in  the  town  of  Copake. 

I  am  also  told  that  a  physician,  now  residing  in  that  town, 
was  present  at  the  birth  of  the  child.  Disputes  about  the 
paternity  of  the  child,  and  intense  domestic  excitement  pro 
duced  on  the  occasion,  have  given  to  the  matter  a  notoriety 
that  renders  the  subject  of  easy  investigation,  and  the  facts 
of  the  case  can  be  ascertained  to  a  certainty.  If  Mr.  Filley, 


OF   WILLIAM    FILLET.  29 

or  his  friends,  should  desire  to  in.quire  into  this  matter  more 
minutely,  I  will  either  accompany  them  to  see  those  better 
informed  of  the  facts  in  this  case,  or  I  will  get  the  statement 
from  such  persons,  and  will  address  them  as  may  be  desired. 

It  has  been  with  much  hesitancy,  and  upon  deliberation, 
that  I  have  taken  this  occasion  to  make  to  you  this  commu 
nication.  It  must  be  with  great  satisfaction  that  Mr.  Filley 
is  enabled  to  suppose  that  he  has  found  his  long  lost  son.  It 
doubtless,  too,  is  of  much  importance  to  the  boy  that  Mr. 
Filley  should  remain  under  the  delusion,  (if  it  is  such).  If, 
too,  the  corroding  wound  in  Mr.  Filley's  feelings  has  been 
healed  by  this  discovery,  it  seems  barbarous  to  tear  it  open 
and  make  it  bleed  again. 

On  the  other  hand,  his  actual  child  may  be  living.  Under 
the  impression  that  he  may  have  found  his  son,  he  will  stop 
further  investigations  and  thereby  prevent  his  own  being 
found,  which  may  yet,  possibly  be  accomplished.  His  actual 
son,  too,  may  hereafter  present  himself,  and  should  he  find 
his  father's  affections  engrossed  by  another,  he  may  not  be 
able  to  prove  his  identity,  and  will  find  himself  an  alien  in 
the  home  of  his  father.  Under  these  views  of  the  subject,  I 
submit  the  matter  to  you.  If  you  think  it  advisable  to  in 
vestigate  the  matter  further  I  will  give  you  all  the  assistance 
I  am  able.  If  you  think  it  advisable  to  let  Mr.  Filley  rest 
under  his  supposed  discovery,  or  to  communicate  the  discov 
ery  that  you  have,  or  that  you  may  hereafter  make,  the  sub 
ject  is  submitted  to  your  discretion. 

Most  respectfully  yours, 

A.  F.  COLLIKS. 


30  LIFE   AND   ADVENTURES 

MICHIGAN  CENTRE,  June  30,  1845. 
MR.  A.  F.  COLLINS — 

DEAR'  SIR  :  Some  time  last  month  I  visited  Captain  Wil 
liam  Marvin,  of  Granville,  Massachusetts,  for  the  purpose  of 
seeing  a  lost  boy,  supposed  to  be  the  son  of  Ammi  Filley,  of 
this  county.  Mr.  Filley  is  a  brother-in-law  of  mine,  and  we 
moved  to  this  county  some  twelve  years  ago,  and  were  near 
neighbors  at  the  time  of  the  loss  of  his  boy,  which  occurred 
on  the  third  day  of  August,  1837".  The  county  was  at  that 
time  new,  and  had  Mr.  Filley  been  an  entire  stranger,  such 
an  occurrence  would,  no  doubt,  have  swelled  my  bosom  with 
painful  emotions,  much  more  that  parent  being  a  relative  and 
friend.  "While  there,  Captain  Marvin  showed  me  a  letter, 
written  by  you,  bearing  date  February  13,  1845,  addressed 
to  him.  Judge,  then,  of  my  surprise  (after  reading  the  ac 
counts  in  the  papers,  and  hearing  what  was  said  by  Mr.  Fil- 
ley's  friends  in  Connecticut,  whom  I  had  just  visited),  on 
perusing  your  letter.  Captain  Marvin,  as  he  is  an  old  man, 
requested  me  to  take  the  letter  and  either  visit  you  or  address 
you  on  my  return.  I  am  compelled  to  take  the  latter  course ; 
as  I  could  not  make  it  convenient  to  see  you  on  my  return 
from  the  East,  I  therefore  take  the  liberty  to  address  you, 
and  as  you  kindly  offered  to  make  further  investigations 
amongst  those  better  acquainted  with  the  facts,  will  you  have 
the  goodness  to  ascertain,  First,  if  possible,  in  regard  to  the 
birth  of  the  child,  by  the  physician,  or  otherwise.  Second, 
if  those  Indians  were  in  Michigan  in  the  summer  of  1837. 
Third,  if  it  was  possible  that  the  boy  could  have  been  six 
years  old  in  the  summer  of  1838,  when  you  say  they  were  at 
Hillsdale,  which  would  have  been  about  the  age  of  Mr.  Fil 
ley' s  child.  Fourth,  please  get  a  description  of  the  boy's 
complexion,  color  of  eyes,  hair,  &c.,  &c.,  and  whether  he 


OF  WILLIAM  FILLET.  31 

had  lost  any  of  his  toes,  and  if  so,  how  many,  and  what  ones; 
and  finally,  get  such  facts  as  you  may  think  material,  and 
write  me  as  soon  as  convenient. 

Mr.  Filley  is  now  in  Michigan,  and  has  no  knowledge  of 
the  facts  contained  in  your  letter,  nor  do  we  think  it  advisa 
ble  that  he  should  know  at  present.  As  this  was  a  favorite 
child,  his  loss  has  truly  been  a  corroding  wound.  Mr.  Filley 
has  at  times  been  partially  deranged,  and  were  we  fully  satis 
fied  that  it  was  not  his  child  it  would  be  imprudent,  to  say 
the  least,  to  inform  him  of  the  fact  at  the  present  time. 
Although  I  am  satisfied  he  has  doubts  about  the  identity  of 
the  child,  yet,  no  one  else  acquainted  with  the  facts,  seems 
to  have  the  least  doubt  except  Captain  Marvin  and  myself, 
for  no  other  person  has  seen  your  letter.  "Will  you  have  the 
goodness  to  write  me  as  soon  as  convenient,  and  give  me 
such  information  as  you  can  obtain.  Any  trouble  or  expense 
that  you  may  incur  shall  be  promptly  paid. 

Truly  yours, 

ABEL  F.  FITCH. 

Afterwards,  Mr.  Fitch  went  in  person  and  procured  a 
large  amount  of  testimony,  a  portion  of  which  is  herewith 
annexed,  showing  clear  and  positive  evidence  that  Mr.  Col 
lins  was  right  in  the  supposition  that  this  was  not  the  child 
of  Ammi  Filley : 

STATE  OF  E"EW  YORK,  ) 
Columbia  County,      j      ' 

John  "W.  Dinehart,  being  duly  sworn,  deposes  and  says, 
that  he  resides  in  the  town  of  Copake,  County  of  Columbia, 
and  State  of  New  York;  that  he  knew  an  Indian  by  the 
name  of  Paul  Pry,  and  an  Indian,  or  half-breed,  woman,  by 
the  name  of  Phebe ;  that  she  was  called  his  wife  ;  that  they 
resided  in  the  town  of  Copake  the  winter  of  1835  and  1836 ; 


32  LIFE  AND  ADVENTUKES 

that  they  had  with  them  a  male  child  that  appeared  to  be, 
and  they  said  he  was,  about  nine  months  old ;  that  the  child 
had  lost  a  toe  off  one  of  his  feet ;  that  they  said  it  had  come 
by  a  string  being  around  it,  and  that  it  was  at  last  cut  off ; 
that  they  then  left  the  place,  and  he  don't  recollect  of  seeing 
them  again  until  in  July,  1839 ;  that  they  then  had  a  little 
boy  with  them  apparently  about  four  years  old,  and  from  his 
complexion  and  the  color  of  his  hair,  he  has  no  doubt  it  was 
the  same  child  they  had  with  them  when  they  left;  that 
they  then  stayed  in  Copake  awhile  and  went  to  the  town  oi 
Hillsdale,  adjoining  Copake ;  that  they  were  in  Copake  fre 
quently  till  the  summer  of  1843  ;  and  that  the  boy  attended 
the  District  School  in  that  neighborhood. 

JOHN  W.  DINEHART. 

Subscribed,  and  sworn  before  ) 
me,  this  5th  day  of  Septem-  > 
ber,  1846.  ) 

W.  M.  ELLIOTT, 

Justice  of  the  Peace,  Columbia  Co. 

COLUMBIA  COUNTY,  ss. 

Elizabeth  Dinehart,  being  duly  sworn,  deposes  and  says : 
that  she  is  the  wife  of  John  "W".  Dinehart ;  that  the  state 
ments  in  the  foregoing  affidavit,  made  by  him,  are  correct 
and  true ;  that  she  has  arrived  at  the  dates  stated  in  the 
foregoing  affidavit  from  the  records  of  the  birth  of  her  own 
children  assisting  her  recollection. 

ECLIMETA     ^ 
mark 

Subscribed,  and  sworn  before  J 
me,  this  5th  day  of  Septem-  V 
ber,  1846.  ) 

W.  M.  ELLIOTT, 
Justice  of  the  Peace,  Columbia  Co. 


OF  WILLIAM  FILLET.  33 

COLUMBIA  COUNTY,  ss. 

Christina  Bain,  being  duly  sworn,  says :  that  she  is  the  wife 
of  Abraham  Bain ;  that  she  resides  in  the  town  of  Copake,  in 
Columbia  County ;  that  she  knew  Paul  Pry,  and  a  woman,  or 
a  half-breed  from  appearance,  that  was  said  to  be  his  wife ; 
that  they  lived  in  Copake  ten  years  ago ;  that  they  had  a 
male  child  with  them ;  that  they  left  and  returned  again, 
about  as  stated  in  the  affidavit  of  John  "W.  Dinehart ;  that 
she  thinks  all  the  statements  contained  in  that  affidavit,  as  far 
as  she  can  recollect,  are  correct.  « 

her 

CHKISTINA  M  BAIN" 
mark. 

Subscribed,  and  sworn  before  \ 
me,  this  4rth  day  of  Septem-  > 
ber,  1846.  ) 

W.  M.  ELLIOTT, 
Justice  of  the  Peace  Columbia  Co. 


COLUMBIA  COUNTY,  ss. 
Loretta  and  Milton  Bean,  being  duly  sworn,  each  depose 

and  say :  that  they  agree  in  opinion  with  Christina  Bain,  of 

the  affidavit  of  John  W.  Dinehart. 

LOEETTA  BEAN, 
MILTON  BEAN. 

Subscribed,  and  sworn  before  \ 
me,  this  5th  day  of  Septem-  v 
ber,  1846.  ) 

W.  M.  ELLIOTT, 

Justice  of  the  Peace,  Columbia  Co. 


34:  LIFE   AND  ADVENTURES 

COLUMBIA  COUNTY,  ss. 

Polly  Williams,  being  duly  sworn,  deposes,  and  Bays :  that 
she  resides  in  the  town  of  Copake,  in  the  County  of  Columbia; 
that  she  knew  Paul  Pry,  an  Indian,  and  a  woman  ty  the 
name  of  Phebe,  a  half-breed  that  was  called  his  wife ; 
that  they  had  with  them  a  male  child,  that  suckled,  and  ap 
parently  less  than  a  year  old ;  think  that  this  was  about  ten 
years  ago ;  that  the  child  had  one  toe  that  was  nearly  off,  ex 
cept  a  piece  of  skin  ;  that  its  mother  said  it  come  by  a  string 
being  around  it ;  this  deponent  advised  her  to  cut  it  off,  which 
she  declined  doing,  but  afterwards,  when  she  saw  them,  she 
had  it  cut  off';  she  saw  Paul,  Phebe,  and  a  little  boy  that  had 
one  toe  off;  that  the  eyes,  hair  and  complexion  of  the  boy 
were  the  same  as  that  of  the  child  she  first  saw  with  them. 

POLLY  WILLIAMS. 

Subscribed,  and  sworn  before  \ 
me,  this  5th  day  of  Septem-  v 
ber,  1846.  ) 

W.  M.  ELLIOTT, 
Justice  of  the  Peace,  Columbia  Co. 

Twenty-nine  years  have  passed  away.  How  marked  the 
change  !  Many  of  the  early  settlers  have  disappeared  from 
the  stage  of  existence ;  another  generation  has  succeeded 
them.  The  stalwart  forms  of  the  red  men  have  left  the  beau 
tiful  banks  of  the  Grand  River  for  the  hunting  grounds.  The 
pale-faces  now  occupy  their  possessions.  The  rattle  of  ma 
chinery  and  the  whistle  of  the  locomotive  are  heard  instead 
of  the  shrill  war-whoop ;  the  wild  oak  openings  have  been 
turned  into  fruitful  fields ;  the  wigwams  and  rude  huts  have 
been  changed  into  castles  and  new  houses.  Where  now 
stands  the  flourishing  and  infant  city  of  Jackson,  marked  by 


OF  WILLIAM  FILLET.  35 

enterprise  and  prosperity  so  worthy  our  pride,  destined  to  be 
come  the  great  Kailroad  Centre  and  Commercial  Metropolis 
of  the  Lower  Peninsula,  were  then  the  camping,  hunting,  and 
fishing  grounds  of  the  Pottawattamies. 

In  the  early  part  of  the  month  of  October,  1866,  the  fol 
lowing  letter  was  received  by  the  Postmaster  at  Jackson : 

cSiE: — ~N"ot  knowing  your  name,  but  thinking  that  you 
would  do  me  the  favor  to  try  and  ascertain  whether  there  is  a 
man  living  in  the  city  of  Jackson,  where  you  live,  or  any 
where  else,  by  the  name  of  Willey.  I  am  his  son.  I  was 
taken  by  the  Indians  about  thirty  years  ago.  Can  you  find 
any  of  the  relatives  of  this  Willey  ?  All  that  I  know  about 
it  is  that  my  father's  name  is  Willey,  and  that  I  was  taken 
from  Michigan.  This  I  was  told  by  an  Indian.  Please  to 
try  and  find  out  for  me,  and  I  will  thank  you,  whether  you 
find  my  father  or  not,  as  soon  as  you  can  make  it  convenient, 
as  I  want  to  see  him  or  my  relations. 

Your  humble  serv't, 

WILLIAM  WILLEY. 

COLDWATER,  BRANCH  Co.,  MICH.,  Sept.  28,  1866. 

This  letter,  on  account  of  its  not  being  deemed  by  the  Post 
master  as  of  much  consequence,  was  laid  aside  for  several  days. 
In  a  conversation  held  with  the  Hon.  Daniel  B.  Hibbard,  the 
Postmaster  made  the  statement  that  he  had  received  such  a 
letter.  As  Mr.  Hibbard  was  familiar  with  the  fact  of  the  loss 
of  the  boy  William  Filley,  and  presuming  that  the  name  of 
the  writer  was  Filley  instead  of  Willey,  of  course  his  curiosity 
was  excited,  and,  consequently,  the  Postmaster  was  requested 
to  make  a  search  for  it.  A  search  was  made,  and  the  letter 
(of  which  the  above  is  a  copy)  was  found. 


36  LIFE   AND   ADVENTURES 

The  author  was  immediately  informed  of  the  receipt  of  the 
foregoing  letter,  and,  as  soon  as  possible,  commenced  an  in 
vestigation  into  the  facts.  Making  a  visit  to  Branch  County, 
he  learned  that  such  a  person  had  been  there,  but  could  not 
find  him.  A  brother  of  William  Filley,  Elijah  Filley,  who 
then  resided  in  Oil  City,  Pennsylvania,  was  telegraphed  to, 
and  went  to  Branch  County,  for  the  purpose  of  finding  his 
brother  if  possible.  While  he  was  engaged  in  the  search, 
the  long  lost  boy,  on  the  19th  of  October,  1866,  appeared  in 
the  city  of  Jackson,  and  received  the  welcome  and  embraces 
of  a  large  number  of  friends  and  relatives,  many  of  whom, 
years  ago,  had  searched  in  vain  for  him. 

The  author  was  present  at  the  time  of  the  receipt  of  the 
telegram  by  the  a^fed  father,  in  Illinois,  announcing  the  ar 
rival  of  William,  and  witnessed  the  paternal  affection  mani 
fested  on  that  occasion.  He  immediately  left  for  the  city  of 
Jackson,  where  he  met  and  readily  recognized  his  son,  not 
withstanding  the  great  change  which  had  taken  place  during 
an  absence  of  twenty-nine  years. 

Time  and  exposure  had  somewhat  obliterated  the  fair  fea 
tures  of  his  youth.  His  personal  appearance  is  the  counter 
part  of  his  father.  His  complexion,  age,  and  the  color  of  his 
eyes  and  hair,  and  all  his  prominent  characteristics  are  iden 
tical  with  those  of  the  lost  child.  And,  upon  appealing  to 
the  well-known  scar  upon  his  left  hand,  his  identity  is  fully 
substantiated. 

His  (William's)  appearance  was,  of  course,  unique.  His 
long  bushy  hair  hung  down  upon  his  shoulders;  he  was 
clothed  in  coarse  woollen  garments,  manufactured  by  himself 
with  the  rude  implements  used  by  the  Indians.  He  had 
witnessed  his  Indian  mother  work  with  the  needle,  and  from 
her  had  learned  the  use  of  it,  which  enabled  him  to  make  his 


AMMT  FILLET. 
The   Father   of  the   Indian   Captive. 


OF  WILLIAM  FILLET.  39 

own  garments;  his  boots  were  of  the  coarsest  kind,  and 
poorly  fitted  the  feet  which  had  worn  moccasins  in  the  rude 
wilds  of  the  Rocky  Mountains.  His  habits  and  mode  of 
living  differ  materially  from  those  who  have  had  the  privilege 
of  enjoying  the  blessings  of  civilized  life.  By  observation, 
he  has  treasured  up  many  important  and  ufeeful  ideas.  He 
was  known  and  called  by  his  tribe  a  medicine  man,  and  is 
skilled  in  the  preparation  of  medicines.  He  understands  tho 
secret  of  making  steel  out  of  iron,  with  the  aid  of  a  liquid. 
His  razor  is  made  out  of  a  horseshoe,  and  is  the  finest  steeL 
He  has  been  thousands  of  miles  on  foot  and  with  ponies. 
It  would  be  singular,  indeed,  if  he  had  not  learned.  "  To 
travel,  is  the  royal  road  to  knowledge."  He  has  been  in 
seventeen  different  Indian  tribes,  three  of  whom  were  savage. 
He  speaks  eleven  different  Indian  dialects ;  and  is  a  good 
singer  in  English,  Spanish,  and  Indian. 

"I  shall  build  a  fire 
Of  hickory  branches  dry, 
And  knots  of  the  gum-exuding  pine, 
And  cedar  leaves  and  cones, 
Dry  stubble  shall  kindle  the  pyre, 
And  there  shall  the  Huron  die — 
Flesh,  and  blood,  and  bones ! 
But  first  shall  he  know  the  pain 
Of  a  red-hot  stone  on  the  ball  of  his  eye, 
And  a  red-hot  spear  in  the  spine. 
And,  if  he  murmur  a  grain, 
What  shouts  shall  rend  the  sky, 
To  see  the  coward  Huron  flinch, 
As  the  Big  Crows  rend  him,  inch  by  inch !" 

He  has  been  where  no  pale-faces  of  the  present  generation 
are  allowed  to  go — neither  will  they  be,  for  many  years  to 


4:0  LIFE  AND  ADVENTTJKES 

come — where  scales  of  gold  and  silver  ore,  and  various  other 
precious  metals  are  picked  up  by  the  Indians,  with  which  to 
ornament  their  persons.  ^ 

He  has  hunted  down  the  grizzly  bear  and  antelope,  for  his 
daily  meal ;  has  shot  the  California  lion  and  buffalo  for  com 
mon  pastime.  He  can  give  the  shrill  warwhoop,  which  can 
be  distinctly  heard  for  two  miles;  and  can  dance  the  war 
dance.  He  has  with  him  many  curiosities  and  specimens  of 
valuable  medicines,  prepared  by  his  own  hands  in  caverns 
beneath  perpetual  snows,  thousands  of  miles  towards  the  set 
ting  sun.  He  has  been  in  places  in  the  mountains  where,  by 
looking  up  to  the  immense  heights,  their  topmost  peaks 
seemed  to  extend  to  the  very  clouds,  and  persons  not  familiar 
with  such  scenes  would  be  frightened,  and  imagine  the  vast 
rocks  were  about  to  tumble  upon  them.  He  also  relates 
many  interesting  incidents  of  Indian  life  and  warfare,  and 
has  seen  persons  scalped  in  the  most  barberous  manner. 

"  I  shall  taste  revenge ; 
I  shall  dip  my  hands  in  purple  gore ; 
I  shall  wet  my  lips  with  the  blood  of  the  men 
"Who  overcame  my  braves ; 
I  shall  tinge  the  lake  so  blue 
"With  the  hue  which  it  wore 
When  I  stood,  like  a  mouse  in  a  wild  cat's  den, 
And  saw  the  Huron s  dig  the  graves 
Of  my  brothers  good  and  true  ! " 

An  Indian  war  dance  is  an  important  occurrence  in  their 
events.  The  whole  population  is  assembled,  and  a  feast  pre 
pared  for  all.  The  warriors  are  painted  and  prepared  as  for 
battle.  A  post  is  firmly  planted  or  driven  into  the  ground, 
and  the  singers,  drummers,  and  other  musicians  are  seated 


OF  WILLIAM  FILLET.  4:3 

within  the  circle  formed  by  the  dancers  and  spectators.  The 
music  and  dancers  begin.  The  warriors  exert  themselves 
with  great  energy ;  every  muscle  is  in  action ;  and  there  is 
the  perfect  concord  between  the  music  and  their  movements. 
They  brandish  their  weapons  with  such  apparent  fury  that 
fatal  accidents  seem  unavoidable.  Presently,  a  warrior 
leaves  the  circle,  and,  with  his  tomahawk,  strikes  the  post. 
The  music  and  dancing  cease,  and  profound  silence  ensues. 

He  then  recounts,  with  a  loud  voice,  his  military  achieve 
ments  ;  he  describes  the  battles  he  has  fought,  the  prisoners 
he  has  captured,  the  scalps  he  has  taken ;  he  points  to  his 
scars,  personal  injuries,  and  trophies.  He  accompanies  his 
harangue  with  actual  representations  of  his  exploits  and  ad 
ventures,  with  man  and  brute,  in  the  most  eloquent  manner, 
and  to  the  extent  of  his  native  oratory  ;  but  uses  no  exagge 
ration  or  misrepresentation.  It  would  be  infamous  for  a 
warrior  to  boast  of  deeds  that  he  never  performed.  If  such 
an  attempt  were  made,  which  seldom  occurs,  he  would  merit 
all  the  indignities  of  his  nation,  as  the  conduct  of  every  war 
rior  is  well  known.  Shouts  of  approbation  and  applause 
accompany  the  narration,  proportioned  in  duration  and  inten 
sity  to  the  interest  it  excites.  Then  all  join  in  the  circle,  and 
the  war  dance  proceeds  until  it  is  interrupted  by  a  similar 
transaction. 

In  the  poem  "Ontwa,"  a  scene  is  so  well  described,  that  we 
cannot  resist  the  temptation  to  transfer  it  to  our  own  pages. 
Of  all  who  have  attempted  to  embody  in  song  the  living  man 
ners  of  the  Indian,  the  anonymous  author  of  this  poem  has 
been  the  most  succesful.  His  characters,  traditions,  and  de 
scriptions  delineate  the  spirit  and  bearing  of  life.  The  work 
is  not  less  true  to  nature  than  to  poetry : 


4A  LIFE   AND   ADVENTURES 

"  A  hundred  warriors  now  advance, 
All  dressed  and  painted  for  the  dance  ; 
And  sounding  club  and  hollow  skin, 
A  slow  and  measured  time  begin. 
With  rigid  limbs  and  sliding  foot, 
And  murmurs  low  the  time  to  suit, 
Forever  varying  with  the  sound, 
The  circling  band  moves  round  and  round. 
Now,  slowly  rise  the  swelling  notes, 
"When  every  crest  more  lively  floats  ; 
Now,  toss' d  on  high,  with  gesture  proud; 
Then  lowly,  'mid  the  circle  bowed  ; 
While  clanging  arms  grow  louder  still, 
And  ev'ry  voice  becomes  more  shrill, 
Till  fierce  and  strong  the  clamor  grows, 
And  the  wild  war-whoop  bids  its  close." 

We  will  not  attempt  to  follow  him  in  his  peregrinations 
from  the  Northern  lakes  to  the  Gulf  of  Mexico,  and  from  the 
golden  domes,  silver  sierras,  and  verdant  valleys  of  the  Mon- 
tezumas  back  into  the  rugged  cliffs  and  deep  gorges  of  the 
Rocky  Mountains,  where  the  rocks  rise  in  triumphant  gran 
deur  many  thousand  feet  above,  shelving  nearly  across  the 
chasms,  covered  with  snow  and  glittering  ice,  where  the  ef 
fulgent  sun  never  shines ;  and  onward,  further  west,  through 
the  lovely  Willamette  Yalley,  down  the  banks  of  the  Colum 
bia,  from  its  source  to  its  entrance  into  the  placid  ocean, 
and  around  the  inexhaustible  forests  of  fir  and  Lebanon  cedar, 
and  untold  mineral  wealth ;  where  the  king  of  birds,  with 
huge  proportions,  spreads  his  broad  and  potent  pinions  from 
the  golden  rocks  of  the  mountains,  and  builds  his  nest,  to  the 
lofty  branches  of  the  red  wood,  above  the  sound  and  roar  of 
the  cataract ;  where  there  is  material  wealth  for  future  great 
ness,  with  an  Oriental  climate. 


OF    WILLIAM    FILLET.  45 

Dazzling  as  has  been  the  career  of  the  El  Dorado  of  our 
day,  and  glittering  as  is  the  shield  of  the  Golden  State  in  the 
eyes  of  a  wonder-stricken  world,  yet  mnst  her  destiny  grow 
dim  before  the  rising  star  in  the  West — Oregon — that  will 
sparkle  in  the  galaxy  of  the  Republic  and  make  many  of  her 
older  sisters  look  to  their  laurels.  Take  it  all  in  all,  Middle 
Oregon  is  one  of  the  finest  spots  of  Nature. 

Such  have  been  the  scenes  and  life  of  the  long-lost  Jackson 
boy,  since  he  was  stolen  from  the  oak  openings  of  Michigan, 
and  crossed  the  broad  rolling  prairies  of  Illinois  and  Iowa,  on 
to  Salt  Lake,  and  into  Oregon. 

We  should  spread  the  broad  mantle  of  charity  over  his  im 
perfections,  for  if  there  ever  was  a  person  entitled  to  our 
sympathy,  when  we  take  into  consideration  the  fact  that  he 
'has  been  isolated  from  parental  care,  he  is  one.  Thus  taken, 
he  must  have  inevitably  lost  his  language,  and  with  it  all  dis 
tinct  recollection  of  father,  mother,  home,  and  all  that  he  held 
dear  in  childhood ;  all,  save  his  early  sufferings  amid  storm 
and  exposure.  Often  has  he  experienced  sad  and  bitter  feel 
ings,  when,  in  the  dark  and  solemn  forest,  by  the  solitary 
camp-fire  on  the  banks  of  some  murmuring  stream,  looking 
eastward  towards  the  rising  sun  and  over  the  lofty  heights 
which  divide  the  waters  of  the  Pacific  from  those  of  the  At 
lantic,  with  no  bed  but  the  cold  ground,  no  cover  but  the 
broad  canopy  of  heaven,  he  contemplated  the  long  journey 
between  him  and  the  place  of  his  nativity. 

He  returns  and  proves  his  identity ;  claims  his  birthright ; 
and,  in  his  own  peculiar  style,  in  the  following  pages,  presents 
to  the  public  his  autobiography  ;  thus  removing  the  withering 
blight  of  suspicion  which  has  hung  like  a  cloud  over  the  girl 
and  family,  whose  misfortune  it  was  to  have  charge  of  him  on 
that  memorable  3d  of  August,  183T. 


46  LITE   AND   ADVENTURES 

It  is  necessary  that  we  should  say  something  in  relation  to 
Mary  Mount,  the  girl  who  had  the  boy  in  charge  on  the  day 
he  was  stolen  by  the  Indians.  As  related  elsewhere,  she,  on 
the  non-discovery  of  the  lost  boy,  at  once  became  the  object 
of  suspicion,  and  her  subsequent  life  must  have  been  indeed 
intolerable.  Suffering  under  the  imputation  of  having  com 
mitted  a  horrible  crime,  and  no  legal  proceedings  having  been 
instituted  to  prove, either  her  guilt  or  innocence,  she  was  a 
marked  person  in  the  neighborhood.  Her  every  appearance 
elicited  such  remarks  as:  "There  is  the  girl  that  murdered 
Filley's  boy ;"  "  That  is  Mary  Mount  the  murderess ;"  There 
is  no  possible  doubt  that  she  made  away  with  Filley's  boy:" 
etc.  Citizens  of  Jackson,  when  visiting  other  parts  of  the 
State  or  country,  were  plied  with  all  manner  of  questions 
concerning  her :  yet  no  opportunity  was  afforded  her  to  le 
gally  and  effectually  remove  the  stain  thus  fixed  upon  her. 
In  the  days  which  have  passed  since  the  time  when  the 
boy  was  stolen,  and  which  to  her  must  have  been  YEAJRS  of 
torture,  she  has  become  a  woman  of  education  and  refinement. 
She  married,  and  the  suspicions  which  attached  to  her  made 
her  married  life  one  of  misery.  But  she  is  still  living,  and 
the  odium  which  had  fixed  itself  upon  her  has  been  removed, 
and  she  now  stands  forth  in  her  true  character,  as  an  innocent, 
greatly  injured  and  respected  woman.  The  return  of  the 
long-lost  boy  was  to  her  a  happy  event,  and  one  which  she 
will  remember  during  every  one  of  her  succeeding  days, 
which  no  effort  will  be  spared  by  those  who  cast  contumely 
upon  her,  to  make  happy.  She  assures  us,  from  her  intimate 
knowledge  of  the  boy  stolen,  that  the  person  who  has  now 
set  up  a  claim  to  be  that  boy,  is  no  impostor. 


WILLIAM   FILLET, 
The  Lost  Jackson  Boy  and  Indian  Captive 


LIFE  AND  ADVENTURES 


OF 


WILLIAM 


CHAPTEE  I. 

Apology — Early  recollections  and  treatment — First  information  as  to  his  na 
tivity — Return — Selection  of  James  Z.  Ballard  to  edit  this  book — Camping- 
ground  of  the  Indians  near  Fort  Kearney — Indian  Habits — The  warlike  and 
blood-thirsty  Siouxs — Burning  of  a  pappoose — A  squaw  experiments  on  a  pap- 
poose  with  boiling  water — Horrible  cruelty — The  death  penalty. 

JACKSON,  MICHIGAN,  October  1866. 

This  narrative,  containing  some  of  the  outlines  of  my  event 
ful  life,  is  written  in  much  hurry,  as  I  have  many  friends  and 
relatives  yet  to  visit  in  this  State  as  well  as  in  the  States  of 
Illinois,  New  York  and  ISTew  England,  and  I  am  anxious  to 
see  them.  » 

In  writing,  I  shall  rely  upon  my  memory.  Were  I  alone, 
with  less  confusion,  I  could  do  much  better.  Since  I  arrived 
in  this  place,  I  have  been  with  my  father  and  friends  to  see 
the  old  home,  the  swamp,  the  lake,  the  place  in  the  woods 
from  whence  I  was  stolen,  and  have  had  the  old  Indian  trail 
pointed  out  by  my  father ;  and,  together,  we  wept  over  the 
grave  of  my  mother. 

All  have  been  very  kind  to  me,  strangers  as  well  as  friends, 
freely  giving  me  money  and  clothes,  and  I  have  often  been 


50  LIFE  AND  ADVENTURES 

invited  to  the  homes  of  the  early  settlers.  The  public  halls 
in  the  city  have  been  offered  me,  in  which  to  receive  the  friends 
who  might  wish  to  see  me,  but  I  had  rather  see  them  less 
publicly.  I  am  often  passed  free  on  the  cars,  and  my  friends 
have  horses  and  carriages  which  I  have  been  welcome  to  use. 

The  readers  of  this  work  may  think  it  strange  that  I  have 
stated  no  date  of  month,  spring,  summer  nor  fall,  nor  the  date 
of  the  year.  Will  you  look  over  this,  as  I  never  stored  enough 
of  the  circumstances  in  my  mind  to  let  me  state  dates,  and  as 
to  paper,  pens,  and  ink,  I  had  not  the  chance  to  get  them  at  all 
times,  and  moreover,  never  expected  to  come  and  live  among 
pale-face  whites,  so  you  must  excuse  my  imperfection  of  mem 
ory.  Many  people  in  my  situation,  would  not,  perhaps,  re 
member  as  much  of  the  customs  of  the  many  tribes  as  I  do 
now,  though  some  may  think  that  one  might  have  committed 
to  memory  the  whole  of  the  scenes  that  I  have  passed  through 
in  these  long  twenty-nine  years.  The  first  eight  years  of  my 
captivity,  I  never  saw  a  pale-face,  nor  heard  a  single  word  of 
English  spoken.  This  much  is  a  blank  in  the  history  of  my  life. 

From  the  first  of  my  remembrance,  the  Indians  used  me 
perfectly  well  in  every  respect ;  even  if,  at  any  time,  I  wanted 
any  valuable  article  that  they  prized  highly,  each  and  all  of 
them  would  let  me  have  it.  In  regard  to  food,  I  had  the  best 
there  was ;  and  as  to  the  moccasins  I  used  to  wear,  if  there 
was  any  part  about  them  that  I  did  not  like,  they  would  al 
ways  give  me  the  strongest  they  had.  I  was  used  by  the  dif 
ferent  tribes  that  I  was  in,  altogether  better  than  any  of  the 
Indians  used  themselves.  When  the  Indians  steal  any  male 
white  child,  they  always  treat  him  unaccountably  well,  in 
order  that  he  may  have  the  due  respect  for  them  they  wish  to 
have  shown  them ;  although  they  do  not  look  for  much  res- 


OF   WILLIAM   FILLEY.  51 

pect  from  a  child,  neither  do  they  look  for  much  from  their 
children.  They  will  correct  white  children  in  the  same  man 
ner  they  do  their  own,  but  not  by  whipping.  I  will  state 
hereafter  the  punishment  of  their  children. 

When  I  gained  the  good  news  that  I  was  taken  from  the 
State  of  Michigan,  I  resolved  the  earliest  opportunity,  to  come 
to  this  State,  in  order  to  try  and  find  my  relations,  if  I  had 
any  living  here  or  elsewhere.  I  visited  my  own  tribe  in  the 
fall  of  the  same  year,  which  was  1860.  When  I  came  to  tell 
the  story  to  the  head  Chief,  and  the  Council,  and  the  rest  of 
the  tribe,  they  all  told  me  that  they  should  not  advise  me  to 
go,  but  would  freely  give  me  the  privilege  to  use  my  own 
mind  on  the  subject,  besides,  they  were  more  inclined  for  me 
to  leave  the  tribe  on  so  important  business  than  to  stay  with 
them  and  never  know  whether  I  had  any  relations  or  not.  I 
had  made  up  my  mind  in  the  fall  of  1865  to  leave  the  next 
spring. 

I  left  the  Camanche  tribe  on  the  second  Monday  of  last 
March,  1866,  and  I  had  a  party  of  my  tribe  as  a  scout,  and 
also  to  protect  me  from  all  danger  through  the  mountains, 
until  I  reached  a  party  that  were  crossing  the  Plains  for  the 
East.  Since  I  arrived  here  I  have  seen  something  over  four 
hundred  old  settlers  who  knew  of  the  circumstances  of  my 
being  lost  on  the  third  day  of  August,  1837,  and  the  greater 
part  of  the  number  were  in  search  of  me  at  that  time  ;  and 
nearly  every  one  of  these  old  settlers  have  talked  with  me 
about  writing  my  life  to  the  best  my  memory  would  afford. 
I  have  concluded  to  try  it,  but  I  am  not  accustomed  to  write 
in  this  manner  my  readers  must  not  find  fault  with  me  if  I 
don't  place  every  word  in  its  proper  order,  and  more  especially 
as  I  have  been  deprived  of  the  privileges  which  the  pale-faces 
enjoy.  My  father,  Ammi  Filley,  told  me  that  my  brother-in- 


52  LIFE   AND   ADVENTTJBES 

law,  James  Z.  Ballard,  would  be  as  good  a  person  as  I  could 
get  to  assist  me,  in  Jackson  or  elsewhere.  And,  on  gaining 
this  information  from  my  father,  I  resolved  to  have  no  other 
one  have  anything  to  do  with  it,  in  any  way  whatever.  What 
James  Z.  Ballard  has  written  in  regard  to  the  time  and 
the  circumstances  of  the  case,  when  I  was  lost,  is  worded  a 
great  deal  better  than  I  can  write. 

Below  Fort  Kearney,  on  the  River  Platte,  say  two  hundred 
miles,  is  the  first  place  of  my  recollection,  and  of  that  I 
remember  but  little.  The  Indians  here  used  to  have  their 
winter  quarters  at  different  points,  sonietimes  at  one  place, 
and  sometimes  at  another.  The  living  here  was  generally  on 
buffalo  and  deer.  The  habits  of  this  tribe  differs  from  all 
other  tribes,  except  savages.  They  eat  food  with  fingers,  and 
lie  on  the  ground,  mostly.  In  fall,  hunt  meat  for  winter,  and 
jerk  to  keep  sweet.  After  fall,  lay  idle  until  spring,  or  early 
spring.  Then  the  summer  would  be  spent  in  ranging  and 
fishing.  Don't  recollect  of  any  reptiles  except  the  hoop-snake 
and  black  viper,  of  which  the  bite  is  instant  death.  Stayed 
with  this  tribe  until  I  was  about  nine  years  old,  then  left  to 
the  Sioux  tribe,  who  are  warlike  and  bloodthirsty,  fear  form 
ing  no  part  of  their  nature.  They  live  much  as  the  tribe  first 
mentioned,  except  they  catch  beaver  and  eat  their  hind 
quarters,  and  catch  mecunis.  This  must  be  what  they  call 
the  muskrat  in  this  part  of  the  country.  They  generally  kill 
their  game  with  the  bow  and  arrow. 

The  Sioux  are  very  cruel  to  those  against  whom  they  enter 
tain  revengeful  feelings  ;  and  are,  also,  in  most  cases,  cruel 
to  their  horses  if  they  don't  do  as  they  wish  them  to.  The 
squaws,  as  a  general  thing,  do  all  the  drudgery  or  work. 
They  marry  by  the  moon  or  summer,  as  it  best  suits  the 
parties. 


OF   WILLIAM  FILLET.  53 

The  power  of  the  chief  -of  this  tribe  is  greater  than  of  any 
tribe  with  which  I  am  acquainted.  He  governs  the  councils 
strictly  to  the  letter  in  every  respect.  Crimes  are  not  pun 
ished  so  severely  as  in  some  other  tribes  with  which  I  have 
been ;  although,  in  some  harsh  cases  of  burning  pappooses, 
starving,  etc.,  if  found  guilty,  the  nearest  relative  is  required 
to  act  the  part  of  executioner.  I  know  of  one  case  where  a 
squaw  left  her  pappoose  with  another  squaw,  to  take  care  of 
for  a  short  time,  while  the  mother  went  to  the  farther  part  of 
the  camp  on  business  of  some  kind.  While  she  was  gone,  the 
squaw  with  whom  she  left  the  pappoose,  burned  it  almost  to 
a  cinder,  or  so  nearly  so  that  there  was  nothing  left  but  the 
upper  part  of  the  skull.  The  mother  came  back  in  the  eve 
ning,  and  to  her  astonishment  found  her  pappoose  burned  to 
death.  She  went  to  the  chief  and  stated  her  case.  He  went 
to  the  wigwam  to  see  if  the  statement  was  true,  and  found 
that  it  was.  The  old  chief  could  not  sleep  that  night,  his  mind 
being  so  troubled  with  the  thoughts  of  the  horrible  crime 
which  had  been  perpetrated.  He  laid  until  nearly  midnight, 
when  he  arose  and  called  the  council  together  for  the  purpose 
of  trying  the  squaw  who  had  committed  the  crime.  The 
council  came  together  and  ordered  a  search  to  be  made  for  the 
guilty  squaw.  She  was  found  in  the  afternoon  of  the  next 
day.  When  found,  the  council  gathered  together  in  a  circle, 
the  chief  in  the  midst,  and  examined  the  mother.  She  stated 
her  testimony  several  times,  and  swore  by  the  Great  Spirit 
that  her  statement  was  true.  They  then  questioned  the  pris 
oner  in  regard  to  to  the  crime  she  had  committed.  She  said 
nothing  for  a  short  time,  but  finally  her  conscience  so  smote 
her  that  she  confessed  the  fact  of  having  committed  the  crime. 
She  stated"  that  she  did  it  to  get  rid  of  the  pappoose,  because 
it  cried  so  much  and  was  so  troublesome  to  take  care  of.  The 


LIFE  AND  ADVENTUKES 

council  deliberated  over  the  case,  and  found  lier  guilty  of  burn 
ing  the  pappoose.  The  sentence  was  that  her  nearest  relative 
should  tie  her  to  a  stake  and  execute  her,  by  first  cutting  out 
her  left  eye,  then  drawing  out  one  of  her  finger  nails, 
and  then  work  at  the  other  eye,  and  another  finger  or  toe 
nail,  and  so  until  she  was  dead  ;  all  of  which  he  did,  keeping 
at  his  bloody  work  until  after  she  was  dead.  If  this  torture 
should  be  perpetrated  by  white  folks,  it  would  be  looked  upon 
as  barbarous  in  the  extreme  ;  but  with  these  Indians  this  is 
nothing,  in  comparison  with  some  of  their  executions. 

I  heard  of  an  old  squaw  who  had  the  care  of  a  small  pap 
poose  only  three  or  four  hours,  but  through  much  wanton  cru 
elty  she  scalded  it  to  death,  and  then  put  it  out  of  sight  as 
well  as  she  could.  It  was  only  a  few  days  before  the  pap 
poose  was  found.  The  chief  was  made  acquainted  with  the 
facts,  and  went,  as  he  was  wont  to  do,  to  ascertain  the  truth 
of  the  statement.  The  squaw  who  committed  the  crime  was 
then  found,  and  her  trial  began;  but  soon  after  commenc 
ing  the  trial  the  guilty  squaw  confessed  that  she  scalded  the 
little  pappoose  to  see  how  long  it  would  live  in  boiling  water. 
She  stated  that  she  dipped  it  in  by  the  hand  first,  then  one  of 
the  feet,  then  the  other  hand,  and  then  the  other  foot,  and  she 
concluded  she  had  punished  it  about  enough.  She  finished  by 
putting  in  the  head  of  the  pappoose  until  it  was  all  covered. 
The  chief  and  the  council  sat  and  looked  very  sad  and  grim. 
They  were  so  uneasy  in  hearing  the  statement  of  the  cruel 
squaw,  that  the  whole  council  were  glad  when  she  had  fin 
ished  telling  of  the  plan  she  took  to  try  the  experiment  of 
seeing  how  much  the  innocent  pappoose  could  suffer  before 
its  heart  would  cease  to  beat.  The  sentence  of  this  squaw  was 
to  be  scalded  in  the  same  manner  as  she  did  the  young  child. 
Even  then  they  were  not  satisfied,  as  they  went  to  work  on 


OF   WILLIAM   FILLET.  55 

her  in  double  madness  after  she  was  dead.  They  began  to 
pluck  out  her  eyes  and  draw  out  the  finger  nails,  as  well  as 
the  toe  nails.  "When  the  Indians  have  a  case  of  this  kind, 
they  do  not  know  when  to  stop.  The  pale-face  would  shudder 
at  so  cruel  and  barbarous  a  way  to  put  a  guilty  criminal  to 
death,  even  if  the  criminal  had  put  his  victim  to  a  ten  times 
more  horrid  death  than  this  young  pappoose  suffered.  But 
there  is  no  shudder  for  the  barbarous  Indian.  I  could  tell 
you  of  far  more  cruel  cases  than  this,  but  it  makes  my  very 
blood  run  cold  when  I  think  of  the  cruel  death  scenes  I  be 
held  while  with  this  tribe. 


OHAPTEE  II. 

Disadvantages— Finding  of  gold  in  California— Early  school  houses— Sent  to 
school — Difficulty  in  learning — Taken  from  school — Dislike  to  leaving  pale 
face  associations — Keturn  to  bondage — Punishment  of  Indian  children — Desire 
to  be  transferred  from  Big  Crow  and  Walla  "Walla  tribes  to  the  Camanche  tribe. 

At  this  time,  I  went  to  the  Big  Crow  tribe.  I  ought  to  be 
some  fond  of  these  Indians,  as  they  brought  me  in  contact 
with  white  folks ;  and  I  knew  that  I  was  a  white  boy,  but 
could  not  understand  any  of  the  white  folks'  language.  I 
knew  the  disadvantage  of  not  understanding  English,  al 
though  I  had  forgot  my  mother  tongue  ;  but  still,  knowing 
that  I  was  at  times  among  white  folks,  and  not  knowing  what 
language  they  spoke,  it  was  very  hard  for  me  to  make  them 
understand-  what  I  wanted.  I  can  remember  very  well  how 
mad  it  made  me  because  they  could  not  understand  me  in  the 
way  I  wanted  them  to ;  and  not  only  myself,  but  the  Big  Crow 
Chief  and  tribe  as  well,  knew  the  disadvantage  of  not  under 
standing  the  white  folks.  If  they  wanted  anything  from  the 
pale-face  people,  they  would  send  me  to  get  the  desired  article. 

About  this  time,  was  the  first  finding  of  gold  in  California 
by  the  whites.  The  Big  Crow  Chief  and  tribe,  as  well  as  the 
chief  of  the  Walla  "Walla  tribe,  concluded  to  put  me  with  the 
pale-face  people,  in  order  for  me  to  learn  and  speak  their  lan 
guage,  if  they  had  any,  as  it  was  generally  thought  by  most 
all  these  tribes  that  they  understood  each  other  on  the  same 
principle  as  some  wild  tribes,  that  is,  by  signs  more  than  words. 


OF  WILLIAM  FILLET.  57 

Soon  after  this,  the  gold  flow  of  emigration  began,  in  order 
to  gain  the  precious  yellow  metal  that  had  been  seen  in  the 
far  West ;  as  some  of  the  emigrants  found  the  precious  stuff, 
and,  sending  the  accounts  to  their  friends  in  the  far  East,  they 
began  to  emigrate  in  a  short  time  by  hundreds. 

It  was  not  long  from  the  beginning  of  the  finding  of  gold 
that  the  emigrants  began  to  build  villages ;  some  of  these,  after 
a  short  time  became  cities,  as  they  were  called  at  that  time  in 
California.  But  still,  they  increased  so  much  that  they  con 
cluded  to  build  school  houses ;  and,  when  the  time  came,  the 
people  of  San  Francisco  decided,  to  build  a  large  and  perma 
nent  school  house. 

A  short  time  after  this,  the  chief  of  the  Big  Crow  tribe  and 
the  chief  of  the  Walla  Walla  tribe, 

"  Two  mighty  chiefs,  one  cautious,  wise  and  old, 
One  young,  and  strong,  and  terrible  in  fight," 

took  me  to  this  San  Francisco  school,  and  placed  me  with  the 
pale-faces,  in  order  to  learn  to  talk  with  them.  This  was  the 
hardest  work  I  ever  did  in  my  life — to  learn  to  speak  English 
again,  not  knowing  at  that  time  whether  I  had  ever  spoken 
English  or  not ;  and  I  was  also  ignorant  of  the  fact  that  I 
had  been  stolen  from  white  folks.  As  near  as  I  can  recollect 
I  remained  at  school  in  San  Francisco  a  little  over  three  years, 
but,  before  this  time  had  expired,  I  found  out  to  my  great 
joy,  that  I  had  learned  the  language  of  the  pale-faces,  and, 
also,  that  their  language  was  not  the  most  of  it.  signs  and 
characters.  I  cannot  tell  how  happy  I  was  when  I  could  talk 
to  the  whites  and  make  them  understand  me.  I  can  recollect, 
as  well  as  if  it  was  only  yesterday,  how  I  used  to  be  talking 
to  everybody,  in  order  to  find  out  the  names  of  different  things 
that  I  did  not  know  anything  about.  I  used  to  ask  the  names 


58  LIFE    AOTD    ADVENTURES 

of  things,  anl  put  them  down  on  bits  of  waste  paper  that  I 
would  find  about  the  streets,  and  sometimes  on  smooth  bark. 
The  reason  I  did  this,  recollect,  was  because  I  had  no  money 
to  buy  paper  with.  This  was  the  most  trouble  I  had  at  this 
time ;  I  thought  more  of  a  sheet  of  paper  than  I  do  of  a  whole 
quire  now.  So  you  can  form  something  of  an  idea  of  what  a 
state  of  poverty  and  destitution  I  was  in — no  one  to  tell  me 
when  I  was  doing  anything  wrong ;  and,  more  than  that,  did 
not  care  whether  I  learned  to  steal  or  not.  But  as  I  had 
to  get  along  the  best  I  could,  I  made  the  best  I  could  of  it, 
under  the  circumstances. 

But  then  I  had  another  hard  thing  to  do,  and  that  was,  to 
leave  the  pale-faces  in  California,  go  back  to  the  tribe,  and 
be  in  bondage  again.  Tongue  cannot  tell  how  sad  it  made 
me  feel  to  know  that  [  had  got  to  be  thrust  away  from  my 
new  found  friends,  that  I  had  become  so  attached  to,  and  to 
be,  as  I  thought,  almost  shut  out  of  the  world  again,  to  lead 
a  sad,  mournful,  and  wandering  life.  Still,  I  had  to  stand  it, 
for  when  the  chiefs  of  the  two  tribes  that  had  sent  me  to 
school  came  for  me  I  had  to  go,  without  making  any  fuss 
about  it.  Had  I  been  stubborn  about  going  with  them,  they 
would  have  punished  me  very  severely,  by  lifting  me  up  by 
both  of  my  ears  for  a  few  seconds.  [Indians  correct  the  white 
children  they  have  stolen  in  the  same  way  that  they  do  their 
own,  but  not  in  quite  so  severe  a  manner.  The  way  is  this, 
when  a  very  small  pappoose,  say  three  summers,  or,  as  the 
pale-faces  say,  three  years  old,  does  wrong,  the  Indians  will 
lift  it  gently  up  by  the  ears,  not  bearing  the  whole  weight  of 
the  body  when  so  young ;  but  commencing  at  so  early  an  age 
begins  to  train  them  in  the  punishment  principle,  and  does 
not  hurt  them  very  much,  and  is  done  to  make  them  mind. 


TAKEN  BY  INDIAN  CHIEFS 
From  School  in  California  back  to  bondage  in  the  Rocky  Mountains') 


OF    WILLIAM   FILLET. 


01 


When  they  are  four  or  five  years  old  and  require  punishment, 
they  are  lifted  bodily  up  by  the  ears  and  are  told  why  and 
what  it  is  done  for,  which  hurts  them  considerably.  It  is  not 
generally  the  case  that  a  pappoose  requires  to  be  lifted  up 
more  than  three  or  four  times  before  they  will  mind  strictly 
when  spoken  to,  and  by  this  mode  of  punishment  they  will 
mind  other  persons  and  Indians  as  well  as  their  parents. 
Indians  think  this  a  much  better  plan  than  to  whip  them,  as 
it  makes  them  mind  so  close  that  a  word  or  look  is  enough.] 
At  times,  it  would  seem  to  almost  take  my  life.  Pale-faces  in 
Eastern  climes  might  suppose  that  I  need  not  dread  going 
into  bondage,  as  they  might  have  supposed  that  I  was  at 
liberty.  But  that  was  the  case,  as,  for  the  gold  the  two  chiefs 
gave  them  for  taking  care  of  me  at  school,  it  was  for  them  to 
keep  me  very  close  to  them,  so  as  not  to  enjoy  my  whole 
liberty.  Still  I  was  happier  here  than  I  had  been  in  all  my 
life. 

But  before  I  close  this  part  of  my  life  in  California,  I  will 
tell  you  that  I  saw  the  chief  of  the  Camanche  tribe,  and  as 
the  former  chiefs  that  claimed  me  gave  me  the  liberty  to  talk 
with  him,  I  did  so  in  the  most  earnest  manner  possible.  I 
told  the  chief  that  I  had  been  to  this  school  for  a  little  more 
than  three  years,  and  was  now  a  tolerable  good  scholar  in 
speaking  English  and  also  in  writing.  I  thought  I  was  a 
first-rate  scholar  when  I  could  but  fairly  write  my  name,  but 
I  have  found  out  the  difference  since.  But,  to  go  back,  I  told 
the  Camanche  chief  that  I  was  dissatisfied  with  the  Big  Crow 
and  Walla  Walla  chiefs  and  tribes,  and  that  I  wanted  him  to 
get  me  away  from  them,  and  then  I  would  be  his  prisoner 
and  captive.  He  accordingly  went  and  saw  these  chiefs,  and 
made  a  bargain  for  me ;  but  what  the  bargain  was  I  never 
knew,  as  the  Camanche  would  never  tell  me.  But  this  much 


62  LIFE  AND  ADVENTURES 

he  told  me,  that  I  must  go  with  these  two  chiefs  into  what  is 
called  New  Oregon,  and  stay  until  the  next  spring,  it  being 
late  in  the  fall  when  I  saw  him.  I  went  back  with  them  in  a 
happier  mood,  knowing,  as  I  had  been  told,  that  I  could  get 
with  the  Camanche  chief,  and  would  soon  have  my  liberty. 
The  next  four  months  seemed  the  longest  time  of  my  exist 
ence  ;  the  time  wore  away  very  slow  to  me,  yet  not  without 
hope. 


OHAPTEK  III 

The  transfer  effected— Adoption— Made  a  Chief  and  head  Medicine  man— Lib 
erty— Surmises  concerning  relatives— Occupation  as  second  Chief— Inability 
of  the  Indians  to  understand  English — Friendship  and  love  of  the  Indians — 
How  to  jerk  meat — Panther  hunting  and  its  dangers — Torture  of  panther 
whelps — A  panther  fight — Distressing  situation — Relieved  by  three  pale-faces, 
escaped  prisoners  from  the  Osage  Indians — Take  pale-faces  to  my  tribe,  who 
kindly  treat  them  and  suffer  them  to  go  on  their  way — The  Osage  Indians— 
Their  manners  and  customs— Theircruelty— Tortures— Roasting  a  pappose- 
Religion  of  the  Qsages. 

The  spring  came,  and,  to  my  great  joy,  with  it  came  the 
Camanche  chief.  The  moment  I  saw  my  protector,  as  I  was 
told  he  would  be,  I  sprang  towards  him  as  quick  as  a  panther 
would  leap  on  a  deer.  This  chief  I  found  to  be  my  fiiend, 
indeed,  although,  for  about  a  year,  he  and  the  tribe  used  to 
watch  me  very  closely.  Soon  after  this,  I  was  adopted  into 
this  tribe,  and  chose  to  be  their  chief,  but  not  the  head  chief; 
I  was  next  to  him  in  rank.  At  this  time  I  had  my  first  liberty. 
How  does  the  reader  suppose  I  felt  at  my  being  almost  as 
free  as  the  deer  or  the  antelope,  to  stay  or  go  when  I  wished? 
If  I  was  ever  happy  in  my  life,  I  was  at  this  time.  It  seemed 
so  strange  to  me,  when  I  had  no  one  to  watch  me,  I  would 
sometimes  sing  and  dance,  and  be  almost  at  my  wit's  end,  to 
express  my  happiness. 

I  used  to  often  wonder  to  myself  wether  I  had  a  white 
father  or  mother,  or  any  sisters  and  brothers  whom  I  did  not 
know.  Thousands  of  times  I  thought  of  "this,  but  still,  at  this 


64:  LIFE   AND   ADVENTURES 

time,  and  for  years  to  come  I  was  left  in  the  dark,  as  to  whether 
I  had  any  pale-faces  for  relations.  I  never,  at  an^  time, 
thouhgt  that  my  father  was  an  Indian,  or  my  mother  a  squaw. 
Some  time  after  being  chosen  chief  in  my  tribe,  I  went  on 
a  hunt,  in  company  with  four  Indians,  for  the  smaller  kind  of 
antelope.  Our  range  was  near  the  Blue  Kidge  Mountains,  a 
portion  of  the  country  seldom  visited  by  panthers,  they 
generally  being  found  much  farther  to  the  south.  On  this 
occasion,  we  came  across  a  very  large  panther,  with  two  cubs. 
These  cubs  we  caught ;  and,  without  .any  thought  of  the 
danger  into  which  we  were  running,  we  commenced  teasing 
them  for  amusement.  We  cropped  their  ears  and  tails,  which 
set  them  screaming,  and  then  we  stuffed  their  mouths  with 
jerked  bear  meat  to  stop  their  screeches,  which  were  enough 
to  make  you  tremble.  It  was  fun  to  see  the  savage  young 
brutes  attempt  to  get  at  us,  but  we  kept  them  off  with  burning 
pitch-pine  knots.  Their  cries  soon  brought  several  full-grown 
male  and  female  panthers  to  the  scene,  and  then  our  danger 
began.  Having  no  horses,  we  could  not  get  away ;  and  every 
thing  seemed  to  be  against  us.  We  managed  to  keep  them 
off  by  firing  charges  of  small  shot  into  them,  which  made  them 
only  the  more  savage.  Our  danger  becoming  greater  every 
moment,  four  of  us  succeeded  in  reaching  a  ledge  of  rocks 
some  one  hundred  feet  above  the  infuriated  panthers,  but  the 
fifth  was  seized  by  four  of  the  animals  and  instantly  torn  to 
pieces.  The  taste  of  blood,  thus  obtained,  made  them  more 
ferocious  than  ever,  and  by  the  time  we  were  safely  on  the 
ledge  of  rocks  mentioned,  we  found  the  panthers  had  reached 
an  equal  height,  and  were  about  to  attack  us  from  both  sides. 
With  no  means  of  escape,  our  only  hope  was  to  fight 
them  to  death.  With  our  rifles  and  other  weapons  we 
commenced  the  conflict,  and  after  several  hours'  severe  fight 


OF  WILLIAM  FILLEY.  65 

the  last  of  the  panthers  was  driven  off  from  the  ledge,  leaving 
but  two  of  our  party,  two  others  having  fallen  in  the  fight. 
As  it  would  be  dangerous  for  us  to  remain,  we  climbed  up  to 
a  higher  ledge  of  rocks,  where  we  laid  down  to  sleep,  both 
being  entirely  exhausted  in  the  deadly  struggle  through  which 
we  had  passed.  On  awaking  in  the  morning,  I  found  my 
only  remaining  companion  dead,  the  wounds  he  received  in 
the  fight  with  the  panthers  having  proved  fatal.  My  situation 
was  then  very  distressing ;  having  been  without  food  or  water 
for  two  days  and  three  nights,  I  was  very  weak  and  unable 
to  reach  the  plain  which  stretched  away  for  miles  below  me. 
As  if  by  a  special  act  of  Providence,  I  heard  a  gun  fired,  and 
at  once  answered  it  by  firing  off  my  own  rifle.  I  soon  discovered 
that  the  first  report  of  a  gun  was  a  party  of  three  white  men,  and 
with  their  assistance  succeeded  in  reaching  the  level  plain.  These 
white  men  were  escaped  prisoners  from  the  Osage  tribe  of 
Indians  on  the  south  fork  of  the  Platte  River,  where  they 
were  encamped  for  the  season,  having  been  with  them  three 
years,  and  had  then  been  wandering  thirty-three  days  in  the 
various  ranges  in  search  of  the  route  to  Great  Salt  Lake  City, 
having  become  bewildered.  At  the  time  we  met  they  were 
several  degrees  out  of  their  way,  and  I  took  them  with  me  to 
my  tribe.  They  were  kindly  treated  by  the  chief  and  council, 
after  remaining  some  time  they  were  permitted  to  go  on  their 
way  towards  their  friends,  well  provided  with  everything  they 
wanted. 

While  stopping  with  my  tribe,  these  pale-faces  told  me 
many  things  concerning  the  manners  and  customs  of  the 
Osage  Indians  with  whom  they  had  been  prisoners.  These 
Indians  were  very  cruel  and  bloodthirsty,  taking  great  pleas 
ure  in  putting  to  death  the  pale-face  squaws  and  children  who 


66  LIFE  AND  ADVENTURES 

fell  into  their  hands,  first  torturing  them  in  the  most  fiendish 
manner.  One  case  they  stated  was  of  a  pale  face  pappoose, 
an  infant  at  the  breast,  which  they  tortured  to  death  in  the 
following  manner :  They  bored  holes  in  its  ears,  and  running 
wampum  belt  strings  through  the  holes,  danced  it  up  and  down 
by  these  strings  until  it  was  dead.  When  they  found  the 
child  was  dead,  they  danced  the  Indian  death  dance  around 
it,  and  then  proceeded  to  roast  it  by  a  slow  fire,  as  they  said, 
to  purify  the  spirit  so  that  it  would  be  received  into  the 
Indian's  happy  land. 

There  is  little  civilization  among  the  Osage  Indians ;  yet 
they  believe  that  in  the  happy  hunting  grounds  they  will 
enjoy  greater  privileges  than  other  tribes  of  Indians.  One  of 
their  happy  ideas  is,  that  every  Osage  Indian  who  reaches 
that  happy  land  will  have  three  squaws  for  wives ;  and  the 
squaws  believe  they  will  have  three  husbands.  They  also 
believe  they  will  live  in  the  happy  hunting  grounds  until  the 
land  turns  to  gold,  out  of  which  the  good  Indians  and  squaws 
will  build  a  golden  wigwam  for  the  Great  Spirit,  who  will  be 
constantly  with  them ;  that  he  will  fish  and  hunt  for  them, 
l>and  prepare  their  food.  In  this  belief  they  will  roast  a  pale 
face  squaw  to  purify  her  for  the  happy  land  where  they  are 
to  live,  that  she  may  cook  for  them  when  the  Great  Spirit  is 
hunting  and  fishing.  They  inflict  the  most  horrible  torture 
in  this  operation,  which  is  done  by  a  very  slow  fire,  and  is 
continued  even  after  death  has  released  the  victim  from  their 
fiendishness.  If,  while  being  burned  alive,  groans  or  cries 
escaps  from  the  unfortunate  pale-face  squaw,  water  is  poured 
down  her  throat,  as  the  savages  believe,  to  stop  the  fire  from 
burning  her  up  too  fast.  If  she  should  die  quicker  than  they 
think  she  ought  to,  she  will  not  be  fit  to  enter  the  happy 
hunting  grounds,  but  will  remain  at  the  gate  to  wait  upon  all 


OF   WILLIAM   FILLET.  67 

the  Indians  and  squaws,  wash  their  dirty  feet  before  they 
enter,  and  gather  tobacco  for  them.  If  her  duties  in  this  po 
sition  are  well  attended  to,  she  will,  when  the  land  turns  into 
gold,  be  allowed  to  join  them  in  the  happy  land.  In  the  event 
of  the  Great  Spirit  leaving  them,  this  pale-face  squaw  will 
have  to  take  his  place  in  hunting,  fishing,  and  cooking  for  the 
good  Indians  and  squaws.  As  a  final  reward,  she  is  made  the 
wife  of  the  Great  Spirit  when  he  comes  back ;  but  if  she  is 
not  a  good  wife,  and  won't  spread  out  the  bear  or  buffalo  skin 
for  the  Great  Spirit  to  sleep  upon,  she  is  sent  out  among  the 
bad  Indians,  where  they  have  to  do  all  the  hard  work  in  tan 
ning  the  skins  and  making  moccasins  for  the  good  Indians. 

My  business  as  under,  or  second  chief,  of  the  Camanches, 
was  to  do  all  the  trading  that  the  tribe  wanted  done.  It  made 
no  difference  how  small  the  pelt  was,  nor  how  simple  the  ar 
ticle,  if  any  of  the  Indians  had  any  such  to  trade,  it  was  my 
place  to  try  and  sell  it  for  him,  and  make  as  much  as  I  could. 
I  did  this  to  get  acquainted  with  this  strange  tribe,  as  you 
must  know  that  I  could  not  get  acquainted  with  them  all  in 
one  year,  for  there  was  a  large  number  of  them.  The  tribe 
were  naturally  fond  of  me,  more  so  than  they  would  be  of 
other  pale-faces  who  do  not  live  among  them.  , 

When  I  knew  that  the  whole  tribe  took  a  liking  to  me,  (and 
this  1  knew  by  the  treatment  I  received  from  them),  and  that 
they  liked  me  as  much  as  it  was  possible  for  them  to  love  a 
white  chief,  and  looked  upon  me  as  their  guardian,  protector, 
and  friend,  then,  and  not  till  then,  did  I  begin  to  learn  some 
thing  for  my  fifture  benefit.  In  such  a  case,  should  one  ever 
turn  his  mind  to  go  and  live  among  the  pale-faces,  or  to  be 
their  chief  medicine  man,  they  will  make  him  what  you  would 
call  their  chief  or  prominent  doctor ;  they  will  learn  him  all 
the  plants  and  bark^  they  use  in  their  treatment  of  different 


68  LIFE  AND  ADVENTURES 

complaints,  both  external  and  internal ;  he  will  have  the 
chance  to  learn  how  to  prepare  all  their  medicines,  and  eve 
rything  they  know  which  will  be  of  any  advantage  to  them. 
Now,  the  reader  must  be  well  aware  that  such  a  tribe  of  In 
dians  have  all  the  fondness  for  this  pale  face  chief  that  they  can 
possibly  have.  The  chief  is  called  upon,  when  he  has 
learned  all  I  have  above  stated,  for  any  case  of  consequence. 
He  is  above  all  the  rest  of  the  medicine  men,  in  preparing  and 
dealing  out  the  different  classes  of  medicine.  It  matters  not 
what  the  case  may  be,  he  is  called  upon  to  superintend.  This 
is  the  most  lofty  grade  in  which  such  an  one  can  be  stationed 
amongst  Indians.  He  also  oversees  all  the  meat  that  is  caught 
by  them  to  save  for  the  next  year's  food ;  he  has  the  regulat 
ing  of  all  meat  that  is  jerked.  There  are  probably  thousands 
of  the  whites  who  do  not  understand  the  manner  of  jerking 
meat.  There  are  various  ways  of  doing  it,  and  I  will  state 
to  you  one  of  them. 

First,  select  a  spot  that  is  considerably  on  a  descent ;  then 
go  up  from  the  level  ground,  say  twelve  or  sixteen  feet,  and 
dig  a  square  pit  six  or  eight  feet  deep.  "When  you  have  done 
this,  dig  a  trench  from  this  square  pit,  say  eighteen  inches 
wide,  until  you  run  out  on  level  ground  ;  then  you  will  cover 
this  trench  over  with  stones,  and  grass  turf  on  the  top  of  them, 
and  dirt  on  top  of  the  turf.  This  forms  a  flue.  Your  meat 
you  will  cut  in  moderately  thin  slices,  and  use  'twine  or  bark 
in  order  to  hang  the  meat  on  a  short  stick :  put  one  end  of 
this  stick  in  the  ground,  so  that  it  will  be  firm  'and  not  slip  ; 
string  the  meat  on  this  stick,  so  that  it  will'not  touch  the 
ground,  and  close  together,  only  not  to  touch ;  then  place  your 
sticks  with  the  meat  on,  one  above  the  other,  until  you  have 
all  your  meat  in  the  pit ;  then  get  some  very  strong  sticks  or 
poles  and  lay  a  number  of  them  across  the  pit :  then  stretch 


OF   WILLIAM   FILLET.  69 

a  hard  hide  quite  tight  over  the  top  of  these  poles,  and  put 
some  earth  over  this  hide,  until  you  have  completely  covered 
it.  Well  done.  Build  a  fire  with  dry  wood  in  the  mouth  of 
the  flue,  and  the  smoke  will  reach  the  pit.  This  warm  smoke 
will  fill  the  pit  and  warm  the  sides,  so  that  it  will  cause  a 
damp,  gassy  vapor  to  arise  from  the  bottom  and  sides.  This 
vapor,  if  kept  going  for  twelve  or  eighteen  hours,  takes  away 
or  destroys  the  animal  life.  This  meat,  if  covered  close 
enough  to  keep  all  flies  from  it,  will  keep  as  well  ten  years 
as  it  will  two.  Fresh  meat,  in  a  temperate  climate,  if 
hoisted  up  forty  or  fifty  feet,  will  keep  perfectly  sweet  in 
the  summer  time  from  four  to  six  weeks.  The  reason  is, 
because  we  are  so  near  the  Pacific  coast,  and  get  the  salt 
sea-breeze ;  and,  besides,  being  in  a  temperate  clime,  the 
atmosphere  is  more  regular,  and  less  changeable,  by  far, 
there,  than  in  this  State.  I  have  wandered  now,  from  one 
thing  to  another,  till  I  have  got  back  to  the  State  of  Michigan. 


OHAPTEE  IV. 

Life  in  the  Rocky  Mountains — Marriage  and  its  peculiarities — A  good  opening 
for  wife  deserters — Dress  of  the  Indians — He  induces  the  squaws  to  adopt  the 
pale-face  style  of  dressing — Becomes  a  modiste — Camping-grounds — Trading 
post — Astoria — Its  location — Indigenous  growth  of  tobacco,  quality,  etc— 
The  Camanche  tribe— Savage  Indians — The  Arrapahoes — Their  filthy  habits — 
Revengefulness — Tortures — Their  superstitions. 

I  will  now  go  back  to  the  Kocky  Mountains,  which  is  the 
spot  where  the  Camanche  tribe  mostly  ranges  in  the  fall  and 
winter  seasons.  "We  do  but  little  in  the  winter — our  pastime, 
generally,  is  to  practice  with  the  rifle,  tomahawk,  and  knife ; 
play  different  games  that  we  are  accustomed  to ;  read,  and  play 
the  fool  with  each  other.  But  the  Indians  are  not  like  the 
pale-faces,  they  are  not  so  quick  tempered  with  each  other. 

Our  marriages  are  arranged  in  a  somewhat  peculiar  manner. 
I  will  state  this  particular  as  modestly  as  I  can:  They  will 
marry  by  the  moon,  or  summer,  or  for  a  longer  time.  But, 
say  that  the  Indian  marries  for  a  moon  (this  is  what  the  reader 
would  call  -a  month),  then,  if  the  squaw  becomes  pregnant, 
they  are  married  for  life ;  then  they  may  fight,  bite,  scratch, 
kick,  wrangle,  and  quarrel  with  each  other  as  much  as  they 
have  a  mind  to.  But  if  they  finally  separate,  so  as  not  to  live 
together  for  two  moons,  they  are  separated  for  life,  and  neither 
the  squaw  nor  Indian  can  live  together  again ;  and,  besides, 
if  the  squaw  is  caught  with  this  Indian  or  with  another  Indian, 
or  the  Indian  with  another  squaw,  they  are  tried  by  the  chief 
and  council,  and,  if  found  guilty,  are  sentenced  to  the  penalty 


OF   WILLIAM   FILLET.  71 

of  death.  So  much,  for  the  Indians  and  squaws.  You  may 
think  it  very  strange,  but  I  have  seen,  in  my  tribe,  some 
Indians  and  squaws  as  pale-faced  as  any  of  the  whites.  But, 
although  this  is  the  case,  these  are  of  pure  Indian  blood.  A 
pale-face  will  not  be  used  very  civil  if  he  undertakes  to  per 
suade  one  of  the  squaws  of  my  tribe  to  marry ;  he  would  get 
punished  very  severely,  as  such  conduct  is  a  thing  that  will 
not  be  allowed  in  our  tribe.  If  he  goes  beyond  our  laws,  then 
we  will  try  him,  and,  if  we  find  him  guilty,  then  we  will 
punish  him  in  such  a  way  that  he  won't  try  that  plan  again 
as  long  as  he  lives. 

Some  of  our  tribe  can  speak  the  English  language  much 
better  than  I  can.  Many  of  them  cannot  speak  it  at  all.  This 
part  of  our  tribe  are  indolent,  and  don't  care  whether  they 
learn  anything  for  their  benefit  or  not.  It  would  be  greatly 
to  their  benefit  if  they  could  speak  English,  as  they  would 
then  have  a  chance  to  learn  the  manners  and  customs  of  the 
whites. 

This  tribe  dresses  far  different  from  any  other  tribe.  Most 
of  the  other  tribes  wear  only  blankets  and  skins,  and  a  breech- 
clout;  our  tribe  wear  pantaloons,  somewhat  in  the  shape  of 
those  worn  by  white  men,  but  the  coat  is  shorter,  reaching 
not  much  below  the  hips.  The  squaws  wear  under  and  over- 
clothes,  in  much  similar  shape  to  the  white  women.  The  first 
dress  worn  in  my  tribe  was  worn  by  the  squaw  of  the  head 
chief,  or  what  the  reader  would  call  wife.  She  had  got  a 
dress  pattern  from  a  white  woman  in-the  Willammette  Yalley, 
State  of  Oregon.  The  chief  squaw  cut  out  the  dress.  I  was 
in  the  cabin  when  she  first  put  it  on ;  I  did  not  like  it,  as  it 
only  came  down  to  her  knees.  I  cut  this  dress  from  off  her 
body.  Then  I  persuaded  her  to  let  me  cut  one  out  for  her, 
by  the  pattern  she  had  got ;  she  did  it,  and  I  cut  it  to  reach 


72  LIFE  AND  ADVENTURES 

down  to  her  ankles  and  persuaded  her  to  wear  it.  I  liked  the 
shape  of  it  much  better  than  the  one  she  had  made  for  herself. 
I  may  say,  that  it  was  not  over  three  years  before  every  squaw 
in  the  tribe  had  dresses,  and  made  them  as  long  as  the  first 
long  dress  I  cut.  It  was  through  my  means  that  the  squaws 
in  my  tribe  were  persuaded  to  wear  dresses  at  all ;  neither  did 
the  Indians  wear  pantaloons  or  jackets,  until  I  induced  them 
to  do  it  for  their  comfort,  decency,  and  happiness.  Now,  the 
Indians  or  squaws  are  not  ashamed  to  see  pale-face  men  or 
women,  and  look  them  in  the  face.  I  have  done  this  much, 
and  would  like  to  do  more  for  them ;  but  perhaps  I  never 
shall. 

My  readers  would  like  to  know  where  my  tribe's  camping- 
grounds  lay.  Our  village  covers  quite  a  large  space  of  ground, 
something  over  eight  miles  square.  But  this  is  guess  work, 
for  there  never  was  a  chain  run  through  there,  and  may  not 
be  for  several  generations  to  come.  It  is  in  the  Rocky  Moun 
tains,  and  is  no  farming  country.  The  reader  may  now  ask, 
where  was  our  trading  point  or  post.  It  was  mostly  at  Asto 
ria  ;  this  lays  very  near  the  mouth  of  the  river.  Our  camp 
lies,  as  near  as  I  can  tell,  from  170  to  220  miles  nearly  in  a 
north-west  direction  from  this  Astoria,  which  is  a  small  town, 
inhabited  mostly  by  Spaniards,  with  a  few  American  families. 
"We  go  down  to  this  spot  once  a  year,  in  order  to  buy  tea, 
flour,  and  powder ;  lead  we  have  plenty  of  in  the  mountains. 
Near  Astoria, we  find,  in  places,  the  natural  wild  tobacco.  It 
is  not  much  larger  than  the  common  narrow  yellow  dock, 
which  grows  in  the"  State  of  Michigan ;  but  it  is  very  strong, 
especially  if  we  let.it  alone  until  it  gets  ripe  ;  it  is  the  strong 
est  tobacco  I  ever  saw  of  any  kind.  This  is  real  tobacco,  and 
not  what  is  called  "  Indian's  tobacco,"  or  lobelia. 

This  Camanche  tribe  is  what  we  call  a  brother  tribe  to  the 


OF   WILLIAM   FILLET.  73 

Camanches  that  range  generally  in  the  State  of  Texas.     But 
those  Camanches  are  a  very  warlike  and  bloodthirsty  tribe. 

Among  the  different  Indian  tribes  who  roam  over  the  wide 
prairies  of  the  far  West  are  the  Arrapahoes.     They  are  the 
most  crafty,  cruel,  and  revengeful  of  any  of  the  tribes  with 
which  I  had  any  acquaintance.      They  are  keenly  alive  to 
insult,  and  the  death  of  the  person  giving  the  insult  is  the 
only  satisfaction  ever  taken.    They  do  no  torture  before  killing 
in  cases  of  insult,  but  strike  deep  and  sure  at  the  first  chance. 
They  permit  no  violation,  of  their  laws  ;  particularly  of  that 
which  forbids  the  enticing  away  of  their  squaws.     When  a 
pale-face  is  guilty  of  breaking  this  law,  if  captured,  he  is  com 
pelled  to  endure  the  most  intense  misery,  inflicted  in  the 
following  manner :  They  first  tie  the  hands  behind  the  back 
and  tie  the  feet  together,  then  they  lay  the  victim  on  his  back, 
and  with  red-hot  flints  burn  some  particular  spot  of  the  body, 
and  they  will  continue  to  work  at  that  part  until  it  is  burned 
to  the  bone.     They  burn  off  the  hair,  and  burn  the  tongue 
and  ears ;  then,  for  a  rest  they  will  drive  sharp  sticks  under 
the  finger  and  toe-nails,  draw  out  the  nails,  one  at  a  time,  and 
then  resort  again  to  the  scorching  with  hot  flints.     Should  the 
victim  be  alive  after  all  this,  they  will  place  him  upon  a  pile 
of  thorns,  and  leave  him,  that  he  may  die  in  peace,  as  they 
say.     They  have  an  idea  that  the  victims  of  this  torture  some 
times  come  to  life  again  and  practice  all  kinds  of  mischief 
upon  them.     In  order  to  prevent  this,  when  they  bury  the 
body,  they  lay  it  on  the  face,  that  in  digging  to  get  out  it  will 
dig  deeper,  and  they  bind  the  body  down  with  long  sticks,  in 
such  a  manner  that  if  laid  on  the  back  and  should  come  to  life 
they  never  could  get  out.     They  think  when  any  one  so  tor 
tured  to  death  comes  to  life  again  that  they  destroy  the  fish 
in  the  lakes  and  streams  and  the  game  in  their  hunting  grounds. 


74:  LIFE    AND    ADVENTURES 

I  once  had  one  of  these  savages  come  and  tell  me  that  one  of 
the  pale-faces  he  had  tortured  to  death  had  come  to  life  and 
had  been  into  his  wigwam,  bent  his  bow  the  wrong  way  so 
that  it  would  not  shoot,  and  drove  his  squaw  away.  I  tried 
to  make  him  believe  that  some  of  his  Indian  enimies  had  done 
it,  but  he  would  not,  and  remained  under  the  superstition  that 
he  had  been  the  victim  of  a  visit  from  the  ghost  of  the  mur 
dered  pale-face.  The  Arrapahoes  are  much  more  superstitious 
than  many  other  tribes,  and  no  manner  of  argument  can 
change  them  in  any  way. 

There  may  be  many  pale-faces  who  don't  know  what  a  sav 
age  Indian  is.  I  will  describe  them,  and  their  tempers  and 
positions,  as  well  as  I  can,  although  I  have  stated  elsewhere 
that  I  have  been  amongst  them  before.  But  it  is  impossible 
to  describe  their  true  character.  All  I  know  of  these  two 
strange  tribes  I  learned  by  being  with  them  two  different 
nights.  In  describing  one  I  describe  both. 


OHAPTEE  V. 

Indian  tribes — Their  ignorance — Enlightening  them — Their  cruelty — Murder 

An  attack — Poisoned  arrows — Experiments — Panthers — Their  habits — Their 
tenacity  of  life — Value  of  their  skins  for  moccasins — Abundance  of  the  ante 
lope—Superiority  of  the  skins  of  the  elk  and  moose— Their  scarcity— Fishing. 

We  were  out  for  a  stroll,  eleven  years  ago  last  summer, 
(1866,)  and  we  came  across  some  of  these  savage  tribes.  They 
took  particular  notice  of  what  direction  we  came.  I  suppose 
it  was  nearly  night  when  we  reached  their  camp,  and  they 
made  signs  for  us  to  stay  with  them  for  the  night,  which  we 
were  very  glad  to  accept  of,  as  we  knew  that  we  were  some 
distance  from  water.  If  it  had  not  been  for  that,  we  would 
not  have  made  any  halt  at  all.  If  my  memory  serves  me 
right,  we  were  smoking  when  we  first  went  into  their  camp. 
For  a  short  space  of  time  they  kept  a  proper  distance  from  us ; 
but,  bye-and-bye,  they  drew  a  little  closer  to  us,  but  cautiously, 
for  fear,  as  I  thought,  that  we  were  going  to  kill  them.  "When 
they  came  up  close  to  us,  it  was  to  ascertain  if  our  mouths 
were  on  fire  or  not ;  but  when  they  saw  us  take  our  pipes 
from  our  mouths  and  blow  the  smoke  out,  and  could  not  see 
any  fire,  they  were  greatly  astonished.  On  smoking  again, 
they  saw  no  danger,  and  began  to  be  sure  that  we  were  human 
beings  like  themselves.  They  would  look  all  around  us,  at 
our  clothes,  and  at  our  silver  and  gold  ornaments.  Then  they 
wanted  to  see  our  guns,  and  their  great  wonderment  was, 
what  .they  were  for.  I  took  my  rifle,  showed  them  some  gun 
powder,  and  let  them  see  me  put  it  in  the  barrel ;  then  I  let 


76  LIFE  AND  ADVENTURES 

them  see  the  rag  I  put  on  top  of  the  powder,  then  took  my 
ramrod  and  forced  down  the  paper;  then  I  showed  them  a 
ball,  and  let  them  see  me  put  it  down  the  mouth  of  the  barrel, 
and  they  saw  me  force  it  down ;  then  I  took  a  piece  of  writing 
paper  and  placed  it  on  a  tree  a  hundred  rods  off,  and  asked 
them  to  go  to  the  tree  with  me  and  examine  it,  then  gave  signs 
for  them  to  leave  the  tree.  When  they  were  safe,  I  drew  my 
rifle  and  put  a  ball  through  the  paper ;  then  made  signs  for 
them  to  go  again  to  the  tree,  which  they  did,  and  found  the 
ball  in  the  tree  and  brought  it  badk  to  me,  and  kept  it.  As 
near  as  I  could  make  out,  they  understood  what  lead  was.  So 
you  see  there  are  some  tribes  so  wild  and  ignorant  that  they 
are  unacquainted  with  anything  belonging  to  the  pale-faces. 
They  were  very  shy  of  us  after  this.  They  gave  us  some  of 
their  dried  bear  meat,  and  we  partook  of  the  same  kind  of  bed 
that  they  did,  and  that  was  the  ground,  with  the  canopy  of 
heaven  for  a  shelter.  In  the  morning  we  were  up  before  they 
were,  and  they  gave  us  some  kind  of  meat  for  breakfast.  I 
saw,  that  morning,  an  old  squaw  strike  one  of  the  pappooses 
with  a  stick,  very  hard;  one  of  the  savages  then  took  up  a 
good-sized  club,  and  split  the  old  squaw's  brains  out.  This 
was  enough  to  show  me  their  temper,  and  it  was  well  for  us 
that  we  showed  them  what  our  rifles  were  for ;  had  we  not, 
we  might  never  one  of  us  have  seen  our  camp-ground  again. 
We  left  soon  after  this,  and  in  a  few  hours  we  saw  them  se 
creted  behind  some  rocks,  from  which  they  attacked  us  with 
bows  and  arrows.  If  one  of  their  arrows  had  entered  our  flesh, 
it  is  probable  it  would  have  taken  our  lives,  for  the  whole  flint 
point  was  poisened,  as  we  afterwards  found  out.  We  shot  one 
of  them  at  our  tame  antelope  and  he  died  from  its  effects  in 
about  two  days,  although  it  was  but  a  slight  flesh  wound,  I 
knew  that  the  arrow  must  be  dipped  in  some  deadly  poison, 


OF    WILLIAM   FILLET.  77 

for  I  have  thrown  flint  point  arrows  into  deer  and  antelopes, 
and  made  very  deep  wounds,  which  would  not  kill  them. 

Panther  hunting  is  a  common  pastime  in  the  spring-time  of 
the  year.  There  are  a  great  many  of  them  at  certain  spots  in 
the  mountains.  There  is  a  moderately  high  point  south-east 
of  camp,  called  Range  Point.  A  hundred  and  fifty  miles  from 
this  Range  Point,  panthers  are  plenty,  and  go  in  groups  of 
four  and  sometimes  more.  I  have  heard  persons  East  say 
that  the  panther  will  follow  men  and  women.  This  is  not  the 
case  with  our  Rocky  Mountain  panther ;  as  far  as  my  knowl 
edge  goes,  they  never  follow  any  one,  and  I  ought  to  know, 
as  I  have  ranged  in  these  mountains  for  the  last  seventeen 
and  a-half  years.  I  have  never  been  out  in  these  ranges  and 
came  across  any  of  them,  but  they  have  run  out  of  my  sight 
as  if  they  were  running  for  their  lives.  The  panthers  I  have 
seen  were  very  small,  compared  to  the  Eastern  panthers  which 
I  have  heard  tell  about.  They  are  very  hard  to  kill,  although, 
sometimes,  if  the  ball  takes  them  at  the'proper  spot,  they  may 
be  killed  very  easily ;  I  have  known  as  many  as  eight  or  more 
balls  to  be  thrown  into  them  before  they  would  yield  up  the 
ghost. 

When  we  kill  panthers  and  catamounts  we  always  tan  their 
pelts  to  make  our  moccasins  of.  The  reason  we  use  such  pelts 
is,  the  deer  are  very  scarce  here  in  the  heart  of  the  mountains. 
I  have  never  seen  but  very  few  deer  in  this  part ;  what  are 
here  are  on  the  outskirts  of  the  mountain. 

Antelope  are  very  thick  here,  so  numerous  that  it  is  no 
trouble  for  us  to  kill  several  in  the  course  of  an  hour ;  their 
pelts  are  the  next  best  pelts  we  can  get  to  make  a  covering 
for  our  feet.  I  and  my  tribe  would  rather  have  the  pelt  of 
the  moose  and  the  elk,  if  we  can  get  them,  as  these  tan  much 
easier  than  most  any  pelt ;  they  are  much  thicker  and  more 


78  LIFE  AND  ADVENTURES 

durable.  After  we  tan  them,  we  can  travel  over  sharp  stones, 
or  even  over  sharp  thorns,  without  hurting  our  feet  in  the  least. 
This  is  not  all.  No  matter  how  wet  we  get  them,  after  they 
are  dry  they  are  just  as  soft  as  they  were  before.  I  can  take 
a  moccasin  of  our  tanning,  from  the  moose  or  elk  pelt,  and  fill 
it  with  water  and  let  it  remain  as  long  as  I  wish,  and  then  no 
water  will  soak  through.  But  it  is  very  rare  that  we  find  any 
of  these  last  mentioned  animals  in  the  heart  of  the  mountains, 
though  they  are  in  the  outskirts. 

I  always  liked  to  range  in  these  winding  mountain  valleys, 
on  the  small  as  well  as  the  larger  streams,  as  they  abound 
in  red-spotted  trout.  I  have  spent  a  great  many  lonely 
hours  catching  these  small  trout,  merely  for  pastime,  and 
then  throw  them  away.  This  was  the  pleasantest  time  I  ever 
had  alone  with  the  red  men. 


CHAPTEE  VL 

His  similarity  to  the  red  man— His  tenacity  of  purpose— Saving  the  lives  of 
•white  men — Comparison  of  the  laws  of  the  whites  and  Indians — Honesty  of 
the  same  compared — Religion  of  the  Indians — Their  profession  and  practice 
— Similarity  the  ancient  Jews — Their  burnt-offerings — Their  chants,  etc,  etc. 
— Big  trees  in  the  Rocky  Mountains — The  stories  concerning  them  disputed 
— No  trees  more  than  12  or  15  feet  in  diameter. 

Some  people  here  may  think  me  very  tenacious  in  my 
habits.  I  am,  and  well  I  might  be,  as  I  was  raised,  except 
the  first  five  years  of  my  life,  among  the  red  men  of  the 
mountains.  I  hold  to  just  the  same  principles  and  dispositions 
as  the  red  men  and  squaws  who  raised  me.  I  am  very 
curious  and  particular  as  to  who  I  choose  for  my  confidential 
friends  in  the  vast  community,  and,  more  than  this,  I  do  not 
like  to  be  contradicted  when  I  know  I  am  telling  the  truth. 
It  is  contrary  to  my  principles  to  allow  any  one  to  dictate  for 
me  in  any  manner.  I  hold  to  their  disposition,  except  that  I 
will  not  allow  myself  to  be  revengeful,  and  kill  for  a  very 
small  grievance.  This  I  would  not  do,  and  I  never  had  enough 
of  the  red  man's  revenge  in  me  to  kill  a  human  being.  I 
have,  in  the  course  of  my  life,  saved  the  life  of  many  a  pale 
face,  by  my  intercession,  from  scalping  with  the  long-knife. 
Some  folks  may  think  that  I  write  this  last  statement  in  order 
to  be  well  spoken  of.  I  always  felt  it  my  duty,  as  under 
chief,  to  do  so,  and,  besides,  it  made  me  more  friendly  with 
the  pale  faces  of  the  extreme  "West.  It  was  not  only  much 
better  for  me,  but  it  was  a  benefit  to  the  red  men  I  was  with. 


80  LIFE  AND  ADVENTURES 

I  remember,  in  1857,  that  a  small-party  of  white  men  came 
into  our  range  to  find  gold,  which  they  did  find,  and  were 
caught  by  some  of  our  Indians.  They  were  forced  to  come 
into  our  camp,  and  were  made  to  know  that,  according  to  our 
laws,  they  would  be  tried  for  their  lives.  But,  by  my  inter 
cession  with  the  head  chief  and  the  council,  they  were  given 
their  entire  liberty.  Now,  it  is  a  fact,  if  this  party  of  pale 
faces  had  gone  among  white  men,  and  had  entered  their  or 
chards  or  fields  and  begun  to  help  themselves  to  wiiat  was 
growing  there,  they  would  have  tried  them  to  the  utmost  of 
their  law,  and,  if  found  guilty,  would  have  put  them  in  the 
white  man's  prison,  and  kept  them  there  some  time ;  and  if 
the  sentence  for  the  crime  had  been  death,  they  would  have 
tied  a  piece  of  hemp  around  their  necks,  and  hung  them 
up.  Now,  if  I  had  not  interceded  lor  the  above  party,  and 
they  had  been  proved  guilty,  and  been  shot  by  the  red 
men,  the  pale-faces  would  have  said  directly  that  the  In 
dians  had  murdered  them,  not  reflecting  of  the  opposite  case. 

Again,  the  pale-faces  think  it  is  no  sin  to  steal  the  red 
man's  property  from  his  land,  but  to  steal  from  a  white  man 
is  all  wrong,  and  deserves  punishment.  I  say,  of  a  truth, 
they  ought  to  be  punished  in  the  one  case  as  well  as  in  the 
other.  If  this  were  not  so,  there  would  be  no  honesty  what 
ever.  Some  may  think  I  am  writing  very  sharp  on  this 
subject,  but  I  write  the  truth.  I  have  known  it  this  way 
often  in  Oregon  and  California,  and  I  do  not  know  as  there 
is  much  difference  in  the  laws  there  and  in  the  East.  I  am 
not  going  to  hold  the  Indian  up  to  the  last  point  of  honesty, 
for  I  know  there  are  some  who  are  not  honest.  But  there 
are  more  honest  Indians,  according  to  their  numbers,  than 
there  are  whites.  If  this  is  not  so,  your  State  prisons  would 
not  be  so  full. 


OF   WILLIAM   FILLET. 


81 


I  have  written  the  above  statement  from  the  knowledge  I 
have  gained  in  the  States,  and  from  the  various  State  prison 
accounts  of  your  pale-face  convicts.  There  are  many  reasons 
why  I  think  more  of  our  laws  than  I  do  of  yours.  One  is,  our 
laws  are  put  in  full  force,  no  matter  what  the  offence  or  the 
nature  of  it.  When  we  find  any  one  or  more  of  the  tribe 
guilty,  we  enforce  the  full  extent  of  the  law  against  them. 
This  is  the  reason  we  have  not  so  many  thieves  and  murderers 
in  our  tribe.  I  firmly  believe,  if  the  laws  were  as  strictly 
enforced  in  the  States  as  they  are  with  us,  that  where  ten 
murders  or  thefts  are  committed,  there  would  not  be  more 
than  one  or  two. 

I  have  been  frequently  asked  questions  in  regard  to  the 
religion  professed  by  Indians  generally.  My  answer  has 
,been :  The  Indians  do  not  profess  anything;  they  either  know 
it  or  they  do  not  know  it.  What  I  mean  by  this  is,  that  what 
religion  they  have,  they  practice  to  the  full  extent.  They 
don't  profess  one  thing  and  practice  another.  Their  general 
worship  is  similar  to  that  of  the  Jews  during  the  time  of 
Moses,  as  we  read  in  the  Old  Testament ;  and  although  they 
cannot  get  the  same  kind  of  animals  for  their  burnt  offerings 
as  the  Jews  had,  they  use  such  as  they  have.  Like  the  Jews, 
the  animals  they  use  must  be  without  spot  or  blemish,  and  I 
have  known  them  to  kill  for  the  space  of  two  weeks  and  some 
times  even  longer,  till  they  obtained  the  suitable  one,  without 
spot  or  blemish,  for  their  burnt  offering.  Every  new  moon  is 
the  occasion  for  offering  up  their  sacrifices  in  atonement  for 
the  sins  committed  from  time  to  tinue  since  their  last  offering. 
They  believe  in  a  Great  Spirit,  who  has  absolute  power  for 
good  or  evil ;  but  of  Christianity  they  have  no  more  idea  than 
they  have  of  the  Greek  language.  No  such  word  as  virgin  is 
known  among  them,  and  it  will  be  difficult  to  make  them 
5 


82  LIFE    AND    ADVENTURES 

4  understand  the  atonement.  The  Camanche  Indians  appeal 
directly  to  the  Sun  and  the  Earth :  the  Sun  as  the  great 
source  of  life,  and  the  Earth  as  the  producer  and  receptacle 
of  all  that  contributes  to  sustain  them.  Their  sacrifices  and 
offerings  are  all  made  to  the  Sun  and  Earth.  In  their  religious 
ceremonies  they  have  many  chants,  of  which  the  following 
are  examples : 

Och  auw  naun  na  wan, 
Och  auw  naun  na  wau, 
Och  auw  naun  na  wau, 
Och  auw  'naun  na  wau, 

Heh!hehlhoh!heh! 

TRANSLATION  : 

I  am  the  living  body  of  the  Great  Spirit  above, 
(The  Great  Spirit,  the  ever-living  Spirit  above,) 
The  living  body  of  the  Great  Spirit, 
(Whom  all  must  heed.) 

[The  chorus  is  untranslatable.] 
"Wish  e  mon  dau  kwuh 
Wish  e  mon  dav  kwuh 
Ke  maun  was  sa  hah  kee 
Ne  maun  was  sa  hah  kee 

Wey !  ho  !  ho !  ho !  ho  I 

TRANSLATION  : 

I  am  the  Great  Spirit  of  the  sky, 
The  overshadowing  power, 
I  illumine  the  earth, 
I  illumine  the  heaven. 

[Slow,  hollow,  and  peculiar  chorus.] 
I  have  only  given  in  the  foregoing  the  experience  I  had 


OF    WILLIAM    FILLET.  83 

among  the  Camanch  tribe ;  other  tribes  vary  greatly  from 
this,  of  which  I  shall  speak  elsewhere. 

I  have  heard,  a  great  many  large  stories  told  here  concern 
ing  the  big  timber  west  of  the  Rocky  Mountains ;  and  some 
have  told  me  that  they  have  heard  travelers  who  had  been  to 
California  tell  of  the  large  red  wood  timber  being  from  twenty 
to  thirty-five  feet  in  diameter.  This  class  of  persons  may 
have  seen  such  large  trees,  but  I  never  have ;  and  I  ought  to 
know,  if  anybody,  for  I  have  ranged  all  through  Tipper  and 
Lower  California,  before  there  was  any  gold  thought  of.  I 
don't  remember  that  I  ever  saw  one  of  these  trees  over  from 
twelve  to  fifteen  feet  in  diameter ;  and  this  is  considered  a 
large  tree  in  this  country. 

From  the  beginning  of  this  book,  I  did  not  intend  to  relate 
any  long  stories  on  this  pojnt  beyond  the  truth  ;  neither  do 
you  want  to  read  long  yarns  that  are  all  falsehood.  I  want  to 
do  honestly  with  every  human  being,  and  I  had  rather  cut  off 
my  hand  that  I  write  with,  than  to  tell  what  I  know  to  be  a 
wilful,  absolute  lie. 


OHAPTEE  VII. 

A  stroll — "Warm  weather — A  strange  light — Curiosity — Search  for  the  mystery- 
Imminent  cftnger — Renewed  search — Discovery  of  a  cave  containing,  dead  bod 
ies  of  IndiansBurial  of  the  Indians— Death  dance— Immense  quantities  of  gold. 

In  the  latter  part  of  July,  1853,  I  went  out  for  another  of 
my  strolls.  This  was  the  warmest  time  I  ever  saw  or  felt. 
I  roamed  away  from  one  place  to  another  until  night  overtook 
me.  I  found  a  lodge  for  the  night,  in  this  vast  wilderness, 
under  a  very  broad  ledge  of  rocks,  which  projected  over  the 
ground  some  five  or  seven  feet.  This  ledge  ran  nearly  north 
and  south.  Here  I  concluded  to  stay  for  the  night.  I  exam 
ined  my  rifle,  to  know  that  it  was*  all  right,  and  also  my  small 
arms ;  whenever  I  was  out  alone  in  this  way  I  always  did  so.  I 
ate  what  little  I  had  with  me,  and  then  lay  me  down  to  sleep, 
hoping  that  it  would  be  my  everlasting  sleep.  When  I  had 
lain  there  some  time,  I  though  I  saw  a  bright  light  in  the 
distance,  directly  south  of  where  I  lay.  I  kept  a  steady  gaze 
on  this  light.  After  a  while  it  grew  much  brighter,  and  be 
fore  long  it  seemed  to  be  most  as  bright  as  day.  This  seemed 
very  unaccountable  to  me,  as  in  all  my  ranges  I  never  saw 
such  a  strange  light  before.  I  raised  up  to  go  and  ascertain 
what  the  cause  of  this  singular  light  could  be.  I  started  off 
in  the  direction  where  it  was  the  brightest,  and  suppose  I 
traveled  some  three  or  four  miles,  when  I  came  to  a  spot 
where,  in  looking  off,  it  loooked  like  a  large  sheet  of  water. 
This  I  thought  very  singular,  as  I  never  had  seen  so  large  a 
lake  in  the  mountains.  Wondering  what  all  this  could  mean, 
I  concluded  not  to  venture  any  farther  on  this  route,  but  went 
back  a  short  space  and  lay  me  down  to  sleep  again. 


OF  WILLIAM  FILLET.  85 

I  awoke  in  the  morning,  a  short  time  before  sunrise,  and 
went  back  on  my  last  nights  route.  Here  I  saw  that  if  I  had 
kept  on  my  course  I  should  have  found  my  everlasting  sleep, 
which  I  so  much  desired  the  night  before — I  should  have 
walked  off  a  high  cliff  of  perpendicular  rock,  and  opposite  this 
deep  gulf  was  where  I  saw  the  dazzling  light.  If  any  of  my 
readers  can  account  for  so  wonderful  a  sight,  in  such  a  spot,  I 
would  thank  them  to  do  it. 

I  returned  to  the  spot  where  I  first  stopped  the  night  pre 
vious  and  wandered  into  the  valley,  where  I  took  a  southerly 
course  until  I  came  to  this  deep  chasm  again.  I  walked  on 
till  I  came  to  some  ill-shaped  steps  which  led  downwards  into 
the  cave  below.  I  procured  some  dry  splinters  of  wood,  to 
make  a  torch  of.  I  went  down  with  my  torch  into  the  depths 
below,  and  discovered  still  another  deeper  chasm ;  and  here, 
alone  in  the  dark,  a  sight  met  me  which  made  me  shudder. 
It  was  the  stiff,  stark  bodies  of  several  dead  Indians.  I  made 
up  my  mind  that  I  would  ascertain  the  cause  of  their  death, 
if  possible.  I  went  to  procure  some  pitch-pine  knots,  and  got 
into  another  difficulty  in  obtaining  them  ;  I  unluckily  walked 
011  top  of  a  mineral  spring,  and,  before  I  was  aware  of  it, 
broke  through  and  fell,  for  aught  I  know,  from  twenty  to 
thirty  feet.  When  I  reached  bottom,  I  was  nearly  blind 
from  the  strong  mineral  which  got  into  my  eyes.  It  was  with 
difficulty  that  I  clambered  out  of  my  perilous  situation.  I 
rubbed  my  eyes  a  long  time  before  I  could  see.  After  dry 
ing  myself,  I  gathered  up  my  pine  knots  and  went  back  to 
the  cave  ;  I  proceeded  down  the  rugged  steps  and  reached 
the  place  of  the  dead,  and  found,  to  my  sorrow  that  they 
were  Indians  of  my  tribe.  I  knew  them  by  their  clothes,  and 
the  make  and  form  of  their  bodies.  I  then  laid  them  in  one 


86  LIFE    AND    ADVENTUKES 

heap,  and  covered  them  over  in  the  best  manner  I  could  with 
sticks,  bark,  and  dry  moss. 

When  this  was  finished,  I  went  back  to  my  tribe,  after  sev 
eral  days'  severe  travel,  and  with  a  hungry  stomach,  and  gave 
a  statement  of  my  discovery  to  the  chief,  in  council,  and  re 
ported  it  also  to  my  tribe ,  I  and  the  chief  and  council  began 
to  lay  plans  to  explore  the  whole  of  this  wild  and  distant  cave. 
The  next  day  being  new  moon,  we  did  not  go — it  is  the  cus 
tom  in  our  tribe  to  have  a  burnt  oifering  at  the  time  of  the 
new  moon,  which  is  the  grandest  offering  I  have  witnessed  in 
all  my  travels  in  the  wilderness  of  the  far  West 

This  done,  we  started  on  our  expedition  for  the  cave.  We 
ranged  some  nine  days  before  we  found  the  wild  cavern,  as 
we  took  the  wrong  trail.  We  reached  the  mouth  of  it  about 
the  middle  of  the  ninth  day,  and  procured  some  dry  knots 
with  which  to  broil  our  fresh  goat's  meat  we  had  procured 
that  afternoon.  This  done,  we  laid  down  to  rest  for  the  night. 
We  rose  early  and  ate  our  cold  meat,  and  then  went  down 
into  the  deep,  dark  cave,  where  we  discovered  the  poor  In 
dians  in  the  sleep  of  death.  Here  we  remained  four  or  five 
hours,  and  danced  the  solemn  death  dance,  which  is  a  very 
solemn  eeremony.  1  never  saw  this  danced  over  any  Indians 
except  those  who  were  supposed  to  have  starved  to  death. 
We  left  them  here,  as  a  suitable  place,  where  they  could  rest 
undisturbed.  We  then  proceeded  into  the  cave,  say  from 
sixty  to  one  hundred  feet,  when  we  had  to  come  to  a  halt,  for 
we  saw,  to  our  astonishment,  a  wide  wall,  about  breast  high, 
and  from  five  to  eight  feet  wide,  and  beyond  this  breast  work 
was  a  dark  gulf  of  great  depth.  As  we  were  returning  back, 
we  saw  some  very  handsome  metal,  which  was  pure  gold ;  we 
picked  up  some  of  this,  and  then  went  out  to  the  mouth  of 
the  cave.  We  went  back  and  got  more  afterwards,  but  we 
did  not  get  the  half  of  it,  as  it  lay  loose  on  the  ground,  and  in 
ledges  of  the  rock. 


OHAPTEE  Yin. 

Hunting  the  North  American  or  California  Lion — Well  trained  horses — Ferocity 
ofthe  lions — The  Indian  manner  of  attacking  them — An  adventure  with  two 
of  them — Severely  wounded. 

I  went  out,  with  four  Indians  of  the  tribe,  into  the  bush,  to 
hunt  the  North  American  lion.  When  we  went  on  these 
hunts,  we  always  went  on  horseback,  but  without  bridle  or 
saddle.  Our  horses  are  carefully  trained,  so  well  that  they 
are  perfectly  under  our  control  and  ready  to  obey  their  riders ; 
when  they  are  spoken  to,  they  will  stop  quick  as  lightning, 
and  move  from  right  to  left  whenever  they  are  made  to 
understand  it ;  when  we  want  to  fire,  they  will  stand  quite 
still  if  told  to,  or  they  will  run  quite  fast  if  it  will  be  of  any 
service  to  us.  Were  they  not  trained,  they  would  be  of  no 
service  to  us  in  this  kind  of  hunting. 

These  lions  are  very  savage,  so  much  so,  that  let  them  be 
but  a  little  hungry,  they  will  attack  anything  they  come 
across.  For  this  reason,  Indians  dread  hunting  them,  as  they 
have  io  encounter  every  danger  possible.  We  have  to  travel 
from,  fifty  to  seventy-five  miles  before  we  find  any  of  this  clas.. 
of  game.  They  live  in  the  bush  and  on  the  trail. 

When  we  find  them,  we  always  halt  and  arrange  our  horses 
in  line,  with  their  hind  parts  towards  the  lions,  for  the  safety 
of  ourselves  and  horses.  They  generally  range  two  together, 
and  we  have  to  be  very  careful,  or  we  may  be  attacked  and 
lose  our  lives,  or  be  badly  crippled.  When  we  can  see  their 


88  LIFE  AND  ADVENTURES 

heads  two  of  us  fire,  and  the  rest  are  kept  in  reserve,  in  case 
of  failure.  We  seldom  have  to  fire  twice ;  but  sometimes 
they  will  not  die  until  their  heads  are  knocked  into  pomice. 
They  are  as  hard  to  kill  as  the  common  house  cat.  Their 
skins  are  mostly  tanned  and  sold  to  traders,  who  will  give 
more  for  their  hides  than  for  the  hides  of  bears,  but  they  are 
Hot  so  valuable  to  the  Indians. 

The  range  of  the  North  American  lion  is  in  the  most  rocky 
part  of  the  mountains,  where  no  animal  but  the  wild  goat 
lives.  I  have  known  six  Indians  to  kill,  in  from  five  to  eight 
days,  from  forty  to  sixty  of  this  tribe  of  savage  brutes. 

In  the  year  1864,  an  Indian  and  myself  were  out  in  the 
country  where  these  lions  range,  hunting  squirrels  for  pastime, 
not  knowing  but  the  lions  had  all  left  that  range.  When  our 
sport  is  over  for  the  day,  and  we  are  away  from  camp,  we 
always  quit  about  4:  o'clock  in  the  afternoon,  in  order  to  make 
some  preparation  for  our  night's  lodging.  We  chose,  at  this 
time,  a  small  cave.  These  caves  are  not  generally  more  than 
from  fifteen  to  forty  feet  in  depth.  We  had  selected  a  con 
siderable  quantity  of  dry  knots,  wfrh  which  to  broil  some  of 
our  small  game,  and  when  we  had  got  the  fire  built,  a  very 
curious  sound  issued  from  the  mouth  of  the  cave.  I  never 
heard  so  dismal  a  sound  before  in  my  life.  But  we  were  not 
alarmed  at  this,  and  kept  on  cooking  our  game  ;  and,  in  being 
foolhardy,  lost  the  broiling  of  our  supper.  What  was  our 
surprise,  to  see  two  of  these  fierce  lions  only  a  few  feet  from 
us,  and  our  guns  as  much  as  ten  feet  from  us  and  very  near 
them.  There  we  sat,  in  awful  suspense,  not  knowing  whether 
to  keep  still  or  jump  for  our  rifles.  But  this  Indian  was  very 
true  to  me,  and  told  me  he  would  rather  lose  his  life  than 
have  me  lose  mine,  as  he  knew  the  tribe  would  not  mourn  so 
much  for  him.  He  told  me  to  keep  still  and  keep  my  eyes 


OF   WILLIAM   FILLET.  "89 

fixed  close  on  the  nearest  beast.  'No  sooner  had  he  begun 
to  move  towards  the  rifles,  than  one  of  the  lions  sprang  upon 
him,  and  took  off  his  right  hand  quicker  and  smoother  than 
I  could  with  an  axe.  He  did  not  stop,  but  crawled  till  he 
reached  the  rifles.  He  had  just  got  back  to  me,  when  the 
other  lion  sprang  on  him,  took  him  in  his  jaws,  and  fairly 
lifted  him  up  from  the  ground.  This  made  the  poor  Indian 
yell  and  scream  with  all  his  might,  which  frightened  the  ani 
mal  so  that  he  let  go  his  hold  and  I  had  time  to  prime  my 
rifle.  I  took  sight  the  best  I  could,  fired,  and  killed  the  ani 
mal  instantly.  The  poor  Indian  lay  wounded  at  my  feet. 

But  we  were  not  through  yet ;  the  worst  was  yet  to  come : 
the  other  was  the  male.  I  loaded  my  rifle  again,  so  as  to 
have  them  both  loaded,  if  I  did  not  kill  with  the  first  shot.  I 
fired,  but  did  not  kill,  yet  the  lion  was  so  amazed  that  he  dare 
not  attack  us.  I  fired  the  second  and  the  third  shot,  when 
the  wounded  animal  got  so  enraged  that  he  sprang  at  me.  I 
raised  my  right  foot,  which  he  clung  to  till  I  had  reloaded  my 
rifle.*  His  strength  had  considerably  subsided,  but  I  carry 
the  mark  of  his  grip  on  the  joint  of  my  big  toe  till  this  day. 
I  fired  this  charge  into  his  mouth,  which  released  my  foot ; 
but  this  did  not  kill  him  yet ;  he  rolled  over  on  his  side,  and 
with  my  last  charge,  I  put  a  bullet  through  his  heart.  This 
finished  the  customer.  I  was  then  in  miserable  pain,  but  not 
so  bad  as  my  friend,  the  Indian.  He  told  me  to  bind  up  my 
toe,  to  save  my  own  life,  and  let  him  alone.  I  did  bind  up 
my  toe,  and  then  tried  to  comfort  him  as  well  as  I  could  under 
-the  circumstances.  I  managed  to  stop  the  blood  from  the 

*As  this  story  may  not  be  believed  by  some,  it  may  be  well  to  state  that  on  its  being 
doubted  by  the  lost  boy's  friends,  he  unhesitatingly  uncovered  his  foot,  and  exhibited  it 
in  a  greatly  mangled  condition.  As  he  will  be  in  various  parts  of  the  country  after  the 
issue  of  this  book,  parties  having  a  desire  to  know  the  truth  of  the  story,  can  have  their 
curiosity  gratified.— J.  Z.  B. 


90  LIFE   AND   ADVENTURES 

stump  of  his  arm  and  side  and  proposed  to  hide  my  rifle,  and 
get  him  to  one  of  our  fall  tents,  to  make  him  more  comforta 
ble.  What  was  my  sorrow,  when  1  had  lifted  him  up,  his 
arm  began  to  bleed  most  severely.  Then  he  told  me  to  go 
back  to  camp  as  quick  as  possible,  and  let  him  die,  for  there 
was  nothing  that  could  save  his  life. 

But  how  could  I  be  so  hard-hearted  to  this  poor  Indian  ? 
He  had  most  likely  been  the  means  of  saving  my  life.  Leave 
him  I  would  not  then,  if  it  cost  me  my  life  by  staying,  and  I 
did  all  for  him  that  I  could  in  my  mind  think  of.  The  day 
WQ  got  hurt  we  had  enough  small  game  to  last  two  days.  The1 
third  day  morning  we  were  out  of  food,  and  my  foot  pained 
me  to  such  a  degree  that  I  could  scarcely  move  at  all.  But 
was  I  going  to  let  us  both  be  hungry,  even  if  I  was  in  severe 
pain  ?  ]S"o,  this  would  not  do.  As  chance  would  have  it,  I 
spied  a  mountain  sheep,  or  wild  goat,  about  one  hundred  and 
twenty  rods  from  me,  feeding  towards  us  ;  I  walked,  as  well  as 
I  could,  to  a  narrow  ledge  of  rocks,  about  fifty  or  sixty  feet 
from  where  I  was,  and  there  I  lay  and  watched  my  future 
game  for  a  short  time,  when  to  my  surprise,  I  saw  two  Indians 
nearing  me.  Just  as  I  fired  the  two  Indians  fired  at  the  same 
object,  so  that  by  the  three  charges  being  fired  we  got  the 
sheep  ;  it  was  very  poor  in  flesh,  but  nevertheless,  it  came  in 
good  time  for  us.  These  two  Indians  did  not  belong  to  my 
tribe,  but  to  the  Walla  Walla  tribe,  and  had  been  down  to  the 
south  fork  of  the  Platte  Eiver,  and  the  day  before  we  saw 
them  had  lost  their  range.  If  they  had  not  taken  our  trail  we 
would  have  been  in  a  bad  condition.  They  relieved  us  some, 
and  they  said  they  would  go  to  our  camp  and  let  the  tribe 
know  of  our  sufferings  and  perilous  condition. 

Five  days  passed  away,  none  of  our  tribe  had  come  to  our 
help,  and  I  had  almost  made  up  my  mind  that  we  sould  never 


OF  WILLIAM  FILLET.  91 

see  the  tribe  again.  As  to  my  walking,  that  was  out  of  the 
question,  for  upon  bearing  the  slightest  weight  upon  my  foot 
it  would  commence  bleeding. 

My  poor  Indian  died  the  sixth  day  after  being  wounded,  I 
was  left  alone,  not  knowing  whether  there  were  any  Indians 
within  from  forty  to  sixty  miles  of  me,  and  I  felt  that  I  was  in 
a  very  bad  situation.  Still  I  weathered  it  through  until  my 
foot  got  well  enough  for  me  to  walk  some,  and  then  was 
obliged  to  walk  very  slowly  on  account  of  the  pain  being  so 
constant  and  severe.  I  knew  that  to  get  back  to  my  tribe  I 
had  a  long  journey  before  me,  and  I  could  not  travel  more 
than  a  mile  and  a-half  a  day  at  the  utmost,  so  you  may  know 
why  I  thought  I  should  never  reach  my  tribe  again.  But  the 
Great  Spirit,  who  rules  all  things  in  their  proper  course, 
ordered  it  otherwise  for  me,  for  I  had  traveled  only  about 
twenty  or  twenty-five  miles  when  I  met  four  Indians  of  my 
own  tribe  in  search  of  me.  They  had  been  looking  around 
for  eleven  days.  If  ever  I  was  thankful  to  the  Great  Spirit 
in  my  life,  it  was  then.  I  had  worn  out  my  moccasins,  my 
feet  were  very  sore  with  cutting  them  on  sharp  stones,  and  I 
had  not  had  anything  to  eat  for  nearly  five  days  except  chew 
ing  a  little  spruce  bark,  which  was  probably  the  means  of 
keeping  me  alive.  I  was  so  weak  I  could  hardly  carry  my  rifle, 
and  had  to  stop  and  rest  very  often.  The  second  day  after 
these  four  Indians  found  me  we  reached  the  tribe  in  safety. 
Had  I  not  met  them  I  should  probably  have  starved.  The 
scars  on  my  foot  I  shall  carry  with  me  to  the  grave ;  it  was  a 
long  time  before  my  bad  bite  got  entirely  well.  Thank  the 
Great  Spirit  that  my  life  was  saved. 


CHAPTEE  IX. 

Hunting  for  grizzly  bears— Killing  and  flaying  the  pelts— An  attack  in  their  dens 
— A  hugging  scene — Lost  in  a  cave — Long  suffering  among  the  rocks — Enjoy 


ments  of  the  bears. 


The  grizzly  bear  is  a  very  hard  animal  to  deal  with,  es 
pecially  if  there  are  several  of  them  together.  I  never  liked 
hunting  these  animals;  still  I  had  to  do  it  sometimes.  When 
ever  I  could  get  out  of  it  I  would,  as  it  is  a  very  rare  case 
that  one  or  more  of  the  hunters  do  not  get  badly  hurt,  or 
perhaps  killed.  I  was  never  in  danger  .by  these  bears  but 
once,  and  then  I  had  enough  of  it. 

We  left  our  camp  in  the  month  of  September,  1852.  This 
was  a  month  earlier  than  we  go  hunting  animals  for  their  skins 
generally.  We  only  hunt  for  them  once  in  a  long  time,  and 
only  when  such  pelts  are  commanding  a  high  price.  We 
started  with  thirty-three  or  thirty-five  Indians.  It  would  have 
been  well  for  many  of  the  party  if  we  had  not  started  at  all. 
When  we  are  under  good  headway  killing  and  flaying,  it  is 
our  custom  for  some  to  flay,  or  take  the  pelts  oflf,  while  the 
others  keep  hunting.  We  kept  hunting  until  we  found  we 
were  out  of  our  range.  This  we  knew  by  not  seeing  any 
regulae  Indian  trails.  What  trails  there  were,  had  been  made 
by  these  bears,  panthers,  and  other  wild  animals.  On  search 
ing  back  for  Indian  trails,  we  passed  a  cave  of  considerable 
ftize,  where  we  concluded  to  stay  for  the  night.  We  broiled 
our  meat,  ate  our  supper,  and  made  some  torches  with  dry 


OF   WILLIAM    FILLET.  93 

splinters  of  wood  which  we  had  collected  for  this  purpose. 
"When  we  had  lighted  them  we  started  for  the  mouth  of  this 
large  cave,  entered,  and  walked  perhaps  fifty  feet  from  the 
mouth,  when  we  came  to  two  turns  or  passages.  We  took  the 
left  hand  one,  and  traveled  on  for  eight  or  ten  minutes.  We 
passed  several  more  passages,  but  still  we  were  not  at  the 
farther  end.  We  made  up  our  minds  to  take  the  back  track, 
but  turned  out  from  the  passage  we  went  in  on,  and  soon 
found  that  we  were  wrong,  and  made  another  attempt  to  find 
the  right  one  and  get  out.  We  walked  but  a  very  few  rods 
when  we  were  met  by  several  grizzly  bears.  They  brought 
us  to  a  halt,  but  not  long  enough  for  us  to  see  that  our  rifles 
were  in  order.  An  Indian  and  I  held  up  our  torches  for  the 
others  to  see  to  shoot,  but  this  made  a  bad  thing  of  it,  as  they 
could  not  shoot  with  any  surety  of  killing  the  animals,  wound 
ing  them  only  making  them  more  dangerous.  They  moved 
towards  us  as  fast  as  they  could.  One  of  the  smaller  ones 
seized  me  by  clasping  his  paws  around  me,  my  face  towards 
him.  I  had  the  presence  of  mind  to  stick  to  my  torch  and 
grasped  one  of  my  revolvers.  Just  at  this  instant  I  heard  the 
report  of  a  rifle,  and  it  prove  to  be  fired  at  the  same  bear  that 
was  loving  me  in  a  way  that  I  did  not  care  to  be  loved.  This 
shot  forced  him  to  let  go  of  me.  This  was  the  only  bear  killed 
that  night  to  my  knowledge.  The  others  had  gone  out  of  our 
sight.  We  lost  no  time  in  trying  to  get  out  of  this  place  and 
we  succeeded,  but  with  the  loss  of  some  blood  and  very  sore 
bodies,  as  we  were  scratched  to  our  hearts'  content.  After  we 
got  out  we  were  not  long  in  finding  a  ledge  of  rocks  which 
overhung  the  ground  some  six  to  ten  feet,  and  there  we  lay 
down  to  take  our  night's  rest,  and  sleep,  which  was  but  little. 
We  wandered  about  in  those  valleys  some  six  or  seven 
weeks  before  we  could  find  any  trail  that  amounted  to  any- 


94r  LIFE    AND    ADVENTURES 

thing  for  our  benefit.  All  the  meat  we  had  to  live  on  during 
this  time  was  one  wild  sheep  and  one  goat,  but  very  little 
water,  and  mineral  water  at  that,  which  would  make  us  sick 
every  time  we  drank  it.  Finally  we  found  a  trail  and  traveled 
on  it  for  some  time ;  and  crossing  no  other  trails,  caused  us  to 
think  we  were* on  a  sheep  or  goat  trail,  as  it  steered  very 
crooked  most  of  the  time.  "We  were  then  out  of  food  of  every 
kind.  In  four  or  five  days  after  we  struck  this  trail  we  found 
the  carcass  of  one  of  the  bears  we  had  killed  and  flayed  as  we 
went  out  with  our  bear  company.  At  this  time  we  were  very 
hungry,  and  although  the  bear's  meat  smelt  some  and  was 
very  bad,  we  were  very  glad  to  cut  off  some  and  broil  it  and 
made  a  good  feast  on  it.  This  was  the  hardest  time  I  can 
recollect  while  I  was  with  the  Western  Indians. 

After  this  we  reached  our  camp  in  a  few  days.  ISTot  one  of 
the  other  Indians  did  we  ever  see  again.  Most  likely  they 
were  all  killed  or  starved  to  death. 

It  is  no  uncommon  thing  to  see  these  grizzly  bears  in  the 
months  of  May,  June,  July,  and  August  ranging  On  the  side 
cliffs,  rocks,  and  ledges.  Sometimes  they  will  lie  and  bask  in 
the  sun,  but  they  never  do  this  when  they  are  the  least  hungry. 
Often  they  are  shot  in  the  summer  time  by  the  Indians, 
merely  for  pastime,  or  to  keep  us  in  practice  with  our  rifles. 
At  times  they  will  be  shot  as  they  stand  or  lie  on  the  narrow 
ledges.  Sometimes  we  kill  them  with  the  first  shot ;  when 
this  is  the  case  they  roll  off  and  fall  as  heavy  as  though  they 
would  smash  the  stones  on  which  they  fall,  and  very  often, 
their  bodies  will  be  crushed  almost  into  pumice.  Their  meat 
at  this  season  of  the  year  is  not  good  for  much,  as  they  are 
generally  lean  and  their  flesh  is  rank  and  tough,  not  considered 
fit  to  eat  by  our  tribe,  although  they  are  eaten  by  some  tribes 
less  civilized  than  the  Camanche  tribe. 


OHAPTEE  X. 

Dirty  tribes — Frog  and  snake  eaters — Blood-suckers — Rocky  Mountain  sheep 
and  goats — Wild  animals  of  the  Mountains — Enemies  of  the  goats — Tempe 
rature  of  the  Mountains. 

Among  the  tribes  are  some  which  are  called,  by  the  more 
advanced  tribes,  dirty  tribes,  because  they  hardly  care  whether 
their  meat  is  clean  or  dirty.  I  have  seen  some  of  them  eat 
frogs  of  any  species,  as  well  as  black  rattlesnakes,  of  which 
some  of  these  tribes  are  very  fond,  and  would  rather  eat  them 
than  any  other  kind  of  food ;  and  many  of  these  uncivilized 
tribes  will  suck  the  warm,  fresh  blood  and  would  rather  have 
it  than  any  other  liquid  as  a  drink.  SfiOCTOft  L2bfM$[ 

Another  reason  why  they  are  called  the  dirty  tribes  is,  that 
they  never  wash  themselves  at  all.  It  makes  no  difference 
what  kind  of  dirty  flesh  or  filthy  snakes  they  have  been  hand 
ling,  nor  what  kind  of  nasty  employment  they  may  have  been 
engaged  in,  they  will  not  wash  their  hands. 

There  is  much  difference  among  the  more  civilized  tribes  in 
regard  to  this  practice.  As  a  regular  thing  they  wash  their 
hands,  face,  and  neck  every  morning,  noon,  and  night ;  and 
at  other  times,  especially  when  they  have  been  handling  flesh 
or  anything  else  of  an  unclean  nature  they  will  wash  them 
selves  in  several  waters,  in  order  to  be  sure  that  their  hands 
are  perfectly  free  from  any  bad  smell. 

The  Rocky  Mountain  sheep  or  goat  are  much  the  same,  as 
they  eat  only  clean,  wild  herbage,  and  drink  clean  water. 


96  LIFE    AND    ADVENTURES 

The  timidity  of  these  animals  is  very  great,  although  it  is  not 
quite  so  great  as  that  of  the  deer  and  antelope.  I  have  heard 
some  pale-faces  here  (in  the  State  of  Michigan)  tell  that  they 
have  seen  the  Rocky  Mountain  sheep,  and  also  the  goat,  jump 
or  leap  off  from  ledges  or  rocks  which  were  from  ten  to 
twenty  feet  high,  seemingly  for  pastime  or  play.  That  much 
I  have  never  seen  in  all  the  'seventeen  and  a-half  years  that 
I  was  in  the  Rocky  Mountains.  But  I  will  say  that  I  have 
seen  them  leap  many  times  for  good  reasons.  I  have  noticed 
that  when  the  grizzly  bear  is  moving  towards  the  sheep  or 
goats,  or  has  made  an  attempt  to  catch  them,  it  is  quite  a 
common  thing  for  them  to  leap  off  the  ledges  in  order  to  save 
'their  lives.  Some  may  ask  if  they  do  not  hurt  themselves  in 
thus  leaping ?  They  will  not  for  this  reason:  Their  skulls 
and  that  part  of  their  horns  which  is  nearest  the  upper  part 
of  their  forehead  are  the  next  thing  to  being  as  hard  as  the 
rocks  that  the  head  strikes  on,  so  that  it  would  be  an  impos 
sibility  for  these  sheep  or  goats  to  hurt  themselves. 

The  wild  animals  of  these  mountains,  such  as  the  grizzly 
bear,  North  American  lion,  panther,  catamount,  lynx,  wild 
cat,  and  the  wolverine,  are  all  by  nature  very  savage,  and  the 
sheep  and  goats  being  very  timid,  it  is  natural  that  these 
beasts  should  be  their  worst  enemies,  except  the  rifle  ball. 
The  principal  food  of  the  savage  animals  spoken  of,  is  the 
sheep,  goat  deer,  and  antelope,  and  they  make  great  havoc 
among  this  class  of  animals. 

I  presume  a  few  words  concerning  the  climate  in  that  portion 
of  the  Rocky  Mountains  where  the  greater  portion  of  my  In 
dian  life  was  spent,  will  be  of  interest  to  many  of  the  readers 
of  fchis  book.  The  climate  in  the  mountains  differs  greatly  from 
that  of  the  valleys,  the  latter  being  warm  and  pleasant,  with 


OF    WILLIAM    FILLET.  97 

regular  seasons  of  rain.  Snow  is  almost  unknown  in  the  val 
leys  ;  but  in  the  mountains:  it  is  no  rarity,  and  their  peaks  are 
in  perpetual  snow.  A  person  going  in  summer  time  from  the 
valleys  into  the  mountains  will  experience  a  number  of 
changes  in  the  atmosphere.  'No  very  marked  change  will  be 
noticed  at  the  height  of  four  hundred  feet,  but  after  reaching 
the  height  of  one  thousand  feet  •  the  cold  becomes  greater  at 
each  succeeding  step  until,  after  reaching  the  height  of  several 
thousand  feet,  snow  is  found  eternally. 

As  stated  elsewhere,  the  "Willammette  Valley  is  the  home 
of  many  Indians.  It  is  a  beautiful  spot ;  plants  and  fruits  of 
many  kinds  grow  there  spontaneously  and  in  the  greatest  pro 
fusion.  The  climate  is  so  mild  that  very  little  change  of  cloth 
ing  is  necessary,  and  the  seasons  are  regular,  no  variable 
weather,  such  as  prevails  in  the  East  and  South,  inconven 
iencing  the  inhabitants.  It  is  just  such  a  place  as  the  Indians 
are  fitted  for,  their  wants  being  few,  and  work  being  almost  a 
stranger  to  them,  they  are  enabled  to  hunt  and  fish  to  their 
heart's  content,  and  obtain  a  living  without  much  labor. 

The  foregoing  are  some  of  the  simple  incidents  and  observa 
tions  of  my  life  among  the  Indians,  written  in  my  plain  way. 
I  confess  my  ignorance.  Twenty-nine  years  of  my  life  having 
been  spent  among  the  red  men  of  the  forest,  of  course  I  am 
much  better  acquainted  with  the  Indian  trails,  their  habits, 
and  hunting-grounds,  the  wild  game,  and  my  rifle  than  I  am 
with  the  manners  and  customs  of  the  pale-faces,  my  own  race. 
I  can  handle  my  gun  much  better  than  I  can  my  pen,  and  I 
can  write  the  simple  language  of  the  Indians  much  better 
than  1  can  the  more  cultivated  language  of  my  pale-faced 
friends,  with  whom  I  differ  in  many  respects.  I  dislike  work, 
as  I  have  never  been  taught  to  labor,  nor  brought  up  to  do  any 
6 


98  LIFE  AND  ADVENTURES 

kind  of  business  ;  but  I  am  always  ready  and  willing  to  help 
any  one  who  is  sick  and  suffering.  This  I  have  been  accus 
tomed  to  do  many  years.  I  can  go  into  the  woods  and  from 
roots  and  barks  which  I  can  get  there  (such  as  red  cedar  and 
other  varieties)  can  extract  oil  and  medicine.  This  my  pale- 
face  friends  seldom  do.  I  do  not  eat  salt  with  my  food,  as  I 
see  others  do  at  every  meal.  I  have  my  butter  made  fresh, 
and  use  no  gravy  with  my  meat.  I  can  get  along  without 
water  or  other  drink.  I  sleep  in  my  blanket  on  the  floor  or 
carpet,  although  it  makes  my  friends  more  trouble.  I  never 
sleep  on  a  feather  bed,  though  my  friends  tell  me  the  cold 
weather  here  will  bring  me  to  it.  I  shall  not  dispute  them  on 
this  point,  as  I  am  now  suffering  from  the  effects  of  the  cli 
mate  every  day,  and  I  expect  it  will  be  worse  before  spring. 
This  is  written  near  the  home  of  my  childhood.  I  thank 
the  Great  Spirit,  who  has  been  my  guide  in  my  wanderings, 
and  who  has  enabled  me  to  find  my  father,  my  brothers,  and 
my  sisters.  My  mother  long  since  passed  away.  Oh!  that 
she  had  lived,  to  embrace  her  long-lost  child. 

WILLIAM  FILLET, 

CHIEF  MEDICINE  MAN,  CAMANCH  TRIBE, 
Rocky  Mountains,  Oregon. 


CONCLUSION. 

The  engravings — Recollections — General  remarks,  &c 

In  writing  the  concluding  remarks  to  this  history  of  the  life 
of  the  Indian  captive,  William  Filley,  the  author  desires  to 
call  attention  to  the  engravings  embodied  in  the  work,  truth 
fully  delineating  the  features  ot  the  lost  boy  as  he  now 
appears;  of  the  boy's  father,  Ammi  Filley  ;  of  the  girl  Mary 
Mount,  and  of  the  different  incidents  in  the  search  made  when 
the  boy's  absence  was  first  discovered.  The  scenes  of  the 
most  important  passages  in  the  search  are  true  to  life  and 
nature. 

There  has  been  little  said  in  the  preceding  pages  of  the 
many  incidents  in  the  carrying  off  by  the  Indians  of  the  boy. 
It  was  a  subject  of  conversation,  during  many  years  subsequent 
to  its  occurrence,  among  the  people  of  the  community  where 
the  tnrillrcg  event  transpired.  It  was  the  occasion  of  the 
death  of  his  mother,  who  went  down  to  her  grave  sorrowing  for 
her  first  born,  never  being  vouchsafed  the  slightest  consolation 
as  to  whether  he  was  dead  or  alive.  Had  his  fate  been  known 
— had  the  faintest  knowledge  of  the  disposition  made  of  him 
been  known — her  overpowering,  absorbing  sorrow,  and  that 
of  his  other  relatives,  might  have  been  in  a  measure  assuaged ; 
but  the  unfulfilled  hope  of  his  return  broke  her  heart,  and  she 
died  in  the  belief  that  he  was  no  more  of  earth.  His  father 
wasted  his  strength  and  means  in  fruitless  search  for  him,  and 
when  hope  had  utterly  failed  him,  his  unwearied  and  patient 
toil  was  rewarded  by  the  return  of  his  long-absent  and  dearly 


100  LIFE   AND   ADVENTURES 

beloved  boy.  Nor  was  the  sorrow  for  his  loss  confined  to  his 
parents  ;  grand  parents,  brothers  and  sisters,  uncles  and  aunts, 
and  a  large  circle  of  family  friends  mourned  him  long  and 
sincerely.  Large  sums  of  money  were  spent  in  the  unavail 
ing  search,  and  days,  weeks  and  months  devoted  to  the  same 
end.  And  now  he  returns— ra  man  grown — is  readily  recog 
nized  by  hundreds  of  those  who  knew  him  in  childhood,  and 
their  hearts  are  made  glad,  for  the  "  lost  is  found." 

In  reading  these  pages,  it  will  probably  occur  to  the  reader 
to  ask  how  and  in  what  manner  the  Indian  captive  obtained 
intelligence  of  his  parentage,  place  of  birth,  and  the  cause 
of  his  being  amongst  the  Indians.  It  was  in  this  wise  :  An 
Indian  chief  with  whom  he  had  had  no  connection  or  acquain 
tance,  on  his  dying  couch  sent  for  him,  and,  under  pledge  of 
eecrecy,  communicated  to  him  the  fact  that  he  was  of  the  race 
of  pale-faces,  and  had  been  stolen  in  his  early  childhood  by 
the  Indians,  by  whom  he  had  been  reared  as  one  of  their  own 
race.  This  was  the  first  intimation  he  had  ever  received 
from  any  source  whatever,  of  his  early  history.  From  the 
time  he  received  this  information  he  was  firmly  determined 
to  find  the  home  of  his  boyhood,  and  to  visit  his  kindred.  In 
this  he  was  warmly  seconded  by  his  Indian  friends,  who  had 
no  desire,  after  the  many  favors  he  had  rendered  them,  to 
place  the  slightest  obstacle  in  his  way.  The  letter  which  he 
wrote  to  the  Postmaster  at  Jackson,  and  other  facts,  are  con 
tained  in  the  foregoing  pages. 

The  author  would  also  ask  a  perusal  of  the  Indian  song 
given  in  the  closing  pages  of  the  book,  "  The  Lake  of  the 
White  Canoe."  Mention  having  been  made  of  the  ability  of 
the  boy  to  sing  in  the  English,  Spanish,  and  Indian  tongues, 
it  may  be  well  to  say  that  this  song  is  a  great  favorite  with 
him.  Its  insertion  in  the  place  it  occupies,  is  occasioned  by 


OF  WILLIAM  FILLET.  101 

its  great  length.  Had  it  been  given  at  the  point  where  it 
rightly  belongs,  its  length  would  have  broken  the  thread  of 
the  narrative,  which  is  now  continuous. 

Notwithstanding  the  many  years  that  this  boy  was  a  cap 
tive  among  the  Indians,  and  in  the  face  of  the  many  hardships 
through  which  he  was  compelled  by  them  to  pass,  his  friend 
ship  for  them  is  of  that  enduring  kind  which  time,  even, 
cannot  change  or  efface.  The  slighest  insinuation  against 
their  honesty  or  friendship,  is  resented  by  him  as  a  personal 
insult.  In  fact,  his  long  residence  among  them,  HAS  MADE 
HIM  AN  INDIAN. 

The  subject  of  this  narrative  is  at  the  present  time  visiting 
his  friends  in  New  England,  the  place  of  his  birth,  but  will, 
previous  to  his  contemplated  return  to  his  Indian  friends, 
spend  some  time  in  various  leading  cities  of  the  Union,  not 
for  the  purpose  of  exhibiting  himself,  but  to  gratify  the  nat 
ural  desire  of  an  intelligent,  searching  mind  in  relation  to  the 
greatness  of  the  pale-faces'  country. 

J.  Z.  BALLAED. 

JACKSON,  MICHIGAN. 


THE  LAKE  OF  THE  WHITE  CA1TOE. 


THE  SONG  OF  "THE  LAKE  OE  THE  WHITE  CANOE." 

A  beautifnl  poem — Sung  by  the  Indian  captive — His  favorite  song. 


Wo  !  Wo  I  Wo  ! 

Wo  to  the  sons  of  the  far-off  land, 

Weak  in  heart  and  pale  in  face, 

Deer  in  battle,  moose  in  a  race, 

Panthers  wanting  claw  and  tooth. 

Wo  to  the  red  man,  strong  of  hand, 

Steady  of  purpose,  lithe  of  limb, 

Calm  in  the  toils  of  the  foe, 

Knowing  nor  tears  nor  ruth. 

Wo  to  them  and  him, 

If,cast  by  hard  fate  at  the  midnight  damp, 

Or  an  hour  of  storm  in  the  dismal  swamp, 

That  skirts  the  Lake  of  the  White  Canoe! 

Wo  to  him  and  them, 
If,  when  the  night's  dim  lamps  are  veil'd 
And  the  Hunter's  Star  is  hid, 
And  the  moon  has  shut  her  lid, 
For  their  wearied  limbs  the  only  berth 
Be  the  cold  and  frosty  earth, 
And  their  flesh  be  burned  by  the  gum  cx- 
From  the  cedar's  poisonous  stem,    [hal'd 
And  steep' d  in  the  blistering  dew 
Of  the  barren  vine  in  the  birchen  copse, 
Where  rear  the  pines  their  giant  tops 
Above  the  Lake  of  the  White  Canoe! 


My  brother  hears — 't  is  well — 
And  let  him  shun  the  spot, 
The  damp  and  dismal  brake. 
That  skirts  the  shallow  lake, 
The  brown  and  stagnant  pool,* 

*  The  water  of  the  little  lake  (Drum- 
mond's  Pond)  to  which  this  tradition  re 
lates,  is  colored  brown  by  the  roots  of  the 
juniper  and  cedar. 


The  dark  and  miry  fen; 

And  let  him  never  at  nightfall  spread 

His  blanket  among  the  isles  that  dot 

The  surface  of  that  lake; 

And  let  my  brother  tell 

The  men  of  his  race  that  the  wolf  hath  fed 

Ere  now  on  warriors  brave  and  true, 

In  the  fearful  Lake  of  the  White  Canoe. 

Wo  !  Wo  !  Wo  ! 

To  him  that  sleeps  in  those  dark  fens! 
The  she-wolf  will  stir  the  brake, 
And  the  copper-snake  breathe  in  his  ear, 
And  the  bitterns  will  start  by  tens, 
And  the  slender  junipers  shake 
With  the  weight  of  the  nimble  bear, 
And  the  pool  resound  with  the  cayman's 
plash.  [ash, 

And  the  owl  will  hoot  in  the  bonghs  of  the 
Where  he  sits  so  calm  and  cool ; 
Above  his  head  the  muckawissf 
Will  sing  his  gloomy  song ; 
Frogs  will  scold  in  the  pool, 
To  see  the  muskrat  carry  along 
The  perch  to  his  hairy  brood  ; 
And  coil'd  at  his  feet  the  horn-snake  wiL 
Nor  last  nor  least  of  the  throng,        [hiss 
The  shades  of  the  youth  and  maid  so  true.. 
That  haunt  the  Lake  of  the  White  Canoe 

And  if  he  chance  to  sleep, 

Still  will  his  OKKI  whisper  wo, 

For  hideous  forms  will  rise ; 

The  spirits  of  the  swamp  [deep. 

Will  come  from  their  caverns  dark  and 

I     fWhip-poor-will. 


• 


104 


THE   LAKE    OF   THE    WHITE    CANOE. 


Where  the  slimy  currents  flow, 
With  the  serpent  and  wolf  to  romp, 
And  to  whisper  in  the  sleeper's  ear 
Of  wo  and  danger  near ; 
And  mist  will  hide  the  pale,  cold  moon, 
And  the  stars  will  seem  like  the  sparkling 
That  twinkle  m  the  prairie  glades,     [flies 
In  my  brother's  month  of  June — 
Murky  shades,  dim,  dark  shades, 
Shades  of  the  cypress,  pine  and  yew, 
In  the  swamp  of  the  Lake  of  the  White 
Canoe. 


Wo!  Wo!  Wo! 

He  will  hear  in  the  dead  of  the  night — 

If  the  bittern  will  stay  his  toot, 

And  the  serpent  will  cease  his  hiss, 

And  the  wolf  forget  his  howl. 

And  the  owl  forbear  his  hoot, 

And  the  plaintive  muckawiss, 

And  his  neighbor  the  frog,  will  be  mute  ; 

A  plash  like  the  dip  of  a  water-owl, 

In  the  lake  with  mist  so  white  ;      [view. 

And  two  forms  will  float  on  his  troubled 

O'er  the  brake  with  a  meteor  light, 

And  he'll  hear  the  words-  of  a  tender  song, 

Stealing  like  a  spring-wind  along, 

The  Lake  of  the  White  Canoe. 


That  song  will  be  a  song  of  wo, 

Its  burthen  will  be  a  gloomy  tale  ; 

It  will  cause  the  rain  to  flow  ; 

It  will  tell  of  youthful  love, 

Fond  but  blighted  love  ; 

It  will  tell  of  father's  cruelty  ; 

It  will  cause  the  rain  to  flow  ;  ,„ 

It  will  tell  of  two  lovely  flowers 

That,  grew  in  the  wilderness  ; 

And  the  mildew  that  touched  the  leaf ; 

And  the  canker  that  struck  the  bud ; 

And  the  lightniiig  that  wither' d  the  stem; 

And  't  will  speak  of  the  Spirit-dove. 

That  summon'd  them  away, 

Deeming  them  all  too  good  and  true, 

For  aueht  save  to  paddle  a  White  Canoe. 


It  was  many  seasons  ago, 

How  long  I  cannot  tell  my  brother, 

That  this  sad  thing  befel ; 

The  tale  was  old  in  the  time  of  my  father, 

By  whom  it  was  told  by  mother  s  mother. 

My  brother  hears — 'tis  well — 

Nor  may  he  doubt  my  speech  ; 

The  red  man's  mind  receives  a  tale 

As  snow  the  print  of  a  moccasin  ; 

But,  when  he  hath  it  once, 

It  abides  like  a  footstep  chisel'd  in  rock, 

The  hard  and  flinty  rock. 

The  pale  man  writes  his  tales 

Upon  a  loose  and  fluttering  leaf, 

Then  gives  it  to  the  winds  that  sweep 

Over  the  ocean  of  the  mind  | 

The  red  man  his  on  the  evergreen 

Of -his  trusty  memory.* 

When  he  of  the  fur-off  land  would  know 

The  tales  of  his  father's  day, 

He  unrolls  the  spirit-skin  .f 

And  utters  what  it  bids  ; 

The  Indian  pours  from  his  memory 

His  song,  as  a  brook  its  babbling  flood 

From  a  lofty  rock  into  a  dell, 

In  the  pleasant  summer  moon. 


*The  memory  of  the  Indians  is  as  as 
tonishing  as  their  sagacity  and  penetra 
tion.  They  are  entirely  destitute  of  those 
helps  which  we  have  invented  to  ep.se  our 
memory,  or  supply  the  want  of  it ;  yet 
they  are  never  at  a  loss  to  recall  to  their 
minds  any  particular  circumstance  with 
whieh  they  would  impress  their  hearers. 
On  some  occasions,  they  do  indeed  make 
use  of  little  sticks  to  remind  them  of  the 
different  subjects  they  have  to  discuss; 
and  with  ease  they  form  a  kind  of  local 
memory,  and  that  so  sure  and  infallible, 
that  they  will  speak  for  a  great  length  of 
time— sometimes  for  three  or  four  hours, 
together— and  display  twenty  different 
presents,  each  of  which  reqnires  an  entire 
discourse,  without  forgetting  anything 
and  even  without  hesitation. 


•f  The  Indians  could  never  be  brought 
to  believe  that  paper  was  any  other  than 
a  tanned  skin  invested  with  the  pow  ers  of 
a  spirit. 


THE   LAKE   OF   THE   WHITE    CANOE. 


105 


My   brother   hears. — 

He  hears  my  words — 'tis  well — 

And  let  him  write  them  down 

Upon  the  spirit-skin, 

That,  when  he  has  cross'd  the  lake, 

The  Great  Salt  Lake, 

The  lake,  where  the  gentle  spring  winds 

And  the  mighty  fishes  sport.          [dwell 

And  has  called  his  babes  to  his  knee, 

And  his  beauteous  dove  to  his  arms, 

And  has  smoked  in  the  calumet 

With  the  friends  he  left  behind, 

And  his  father,  and  mother,  and  kin, 

Are  gather' d  around  his  fire, 

To  learn  what  the  red  men  say. 

He  may  the  skin  unroll,  and  bid 

His  Okki  this  tradition  read— 

The  parting  words  of  the  Roanoke, 

And  his  tale  of  a  lover  and  maiden  true, 

Who  paddle  the  Lake  in  a  White  Canoe. 

There  liv'd  upon  the  Great  Arm's  brink.* 

In  that  far  day, 

The  warlke  Roanokes, 

The  masters  of  the  wilds: 

They  warr'd  on  distant  lands, 

This  valiant  nation,  victors  everywhere 

Their  shoutsrung  through  the  hollow  oakf 

That  beetle  over  the  Spirit  Bay,t 

Where  the  red  elk  comes  to  drink; 

The  frozen  clime  of  the  Hunter's  Star 

Rang  shrill  witlrthe  shout  of  their  bands 

And  the  whistle  of  their  cress  ;J 

And  they  fought  the  distant  Cherokee, 

The  Chickasaw,  and  the  Muscogulgee, 

And  the  Sioux  of  the  West. 

They  liv'd  for  nought  but  war,         [vie1,1 

Though  now  and  then  would  be  caught  a 

Of  a  Roanoke  in  a  White  Canoe. 

*  Chesapeake  Bay. 

t  Bay  of  Saganaum,  in  Lake  Huron. 

I  Cress  or  crease,  a  poisoned  arrow 
seldom  used,  howeve^  by  the  tribes  eas 
of  the  Rocky  Mountains. 


Among  this  tribe,  this  valiant  tribe, 
Of  brave  and  warlike  Roanokes, 
Were  two — a  youth  and  maid, 
Who  lov'd  each  other  well, 
Long  and  fondly  lov'd, 
Lov'd  from  the  childish  hour, 
When,  through  the  bosky  dell, 
Together  they  fondly  roved 
[n  quest  of  the  little  flower, 
That  likes  to  bloom  in  the  quiet  shade 
Of  the  tall  and  stately  oaks. 
The  pale-face  calls  it  the  violet — 
T  is  a  beautiful  child  when  its  leaves  are 
With  the  morning  dew,  and  spread   [wet 
To  the  beam  of  the  sun,and  its  little  head 
Sinks  low  with  the  weight  of  the  tear 
That  gems  its  pale  blue  eye. 
Causing  it  to  lie 

Like  a  maiden  whose  heart  is  broke, — 
Does  my  brother  hear  ? 

He  hears  my  words — 't  is  well — 

The  names  of  this  fond  youth  and  maid 

Tell  who  they  were 

For  he  was  Annawan,  the  Brave, 

And  she  Pequida,  the  girl  of  the  braid, 

The  fairest    of  the  fair. 

Her  foot  was  the  foot  of  the  nimble  doe, 

That  flies  from  a  cruel  carcajou, 

Deeming  speed  the  means  to  save; 

Her  eyes  were  the  eyes  of  the  yellow  owl, 

That  builds  his  nest  by  the  River  of  Fish; 

Her  hair  was  black  as  the  wings  of  the 

fowl  [aky*9- 

That  drew    this  world  from  the  great 

Small  and  plump  was  her  hand; 

Small  and  slender  her  foot; 

And,  when  she  opened  her  lips  to  sing, 

Ripe  red  lips,  soft  sweet  lips, 

Lips  like  the  flower  that  the  honey-bee 

The  birds  in  the  grove  were  mute,    [sips, 

The  bittern  forgot  his  toot, 

And  the  owl  forbore  his  hoot, 

And  the  king  bird  set  his  wing, 

And  the  woodpecker  ceas'd  his  tap 


106 


THE    LAKE    OF   THE   WHITE    CANOE. 


On   the   hollow  beech, 
And  the  son  of  the  loon  on  the  neighbor- 
Gave  over  his  idle  screech-,      [ing  strand 
And  fell  to  sleep  in  his  mother's  lap. 


And  she  was  good  as  fair, 
This  maid  of  the  Roanokes; 
She  was  mild  as  a  day  in  spring; 
Morning,  noon,  and  night, 
Young  Pequida  smil'd  on  all, 
But   most    on   one. 
She  smiled  more  sweet  if  he  were  there, 
And  her  langh  more  joyous  rung, 
And  her  step  had  a  firmer  spring, 
And  her  eye  had  a  keener  light. 
And  her  tongne  dealt  out  blither  jokes, 
And  she  had  more  songs  to  spare, 
And  she  better  mocked  the  blue  jay's  cry, 
When  his  dinner  of  maize  was  done; 
And  better  far,  when  he  stood  in  view, 
Could  she  paddle  the  Lake  in  her  White 
Canoe. 

And  who  was  he  she  loved? 

The  bravest  he  of  the  Koanokes, 

A  leader,  before  his  years 

Were  the  years  of  a  full-grown  man; 

A  warrier,  when  his  strength 

Was  less  than  a  warrior's  need; 

Bnt,  when  his  limbs  were  grown, 

And  he  stood  erect  and  tall, 

Who  could  bead  the  sprout  of  the  oak 

Of  which  his  bow  was  made  ? 

Who  could  poise  his  choice  of  spears, 

To  him  bnt  a  little  reed  ? 

None   in  all  the  land. 

And  who  had  a  soul  so  warm  ? 

Who  was  so  kind  a  friend  ?  * 


*  Every  Indian  has  a  friend  nearly  of 
the  same  age  as  himself,  to  whom  he  at 
taches  himself  by  the  most  indissoluble 
bonds  Two  persons  thus  united  by  one 
common  interest,  are  capable  of  under 
taking  and  hazarding  everything  in  order 
to  aid  and  mutually  succor  each  other  ; 
death  itself,  according  to  their  belief,  can 


And  who  so  free  to  lend 

To  the  weary  stranger  bed  and  bread, 

Food  for  his  stomach,  rest  for  his  head, 

As  Annawan,  the  Roanoke, 

The  valiant  son  of  the  chief  Red  Oak? 


They  liv'd  from  infancy  together 

They  seem'd  two  sides   of   a  sparrow's 

feather ; 

Together  they  roam'd  o'er  the  rocky  hill, 
And  through  the  woody  hollow, 
And  by  the  river  brink, 
And  o'er  the  winter  snows ; 
And  they  sat  for  hours  by  the  summer  rill, 
To  watch  the  stag  as  he  comes  to  drink, 
And  to  see  the  beaver  wallow  ; 
And  when  the  waters  froze, 
They  still  had  a  sport  to  follow 
O'er  the  smooth  ice,  for,  in  full  view, 
Lay  the  glassy  Lake  of  the  White  Canoe. 


The  youth  was  the  son  of  a  chief, 
And  the  maiden  a  warrior's  daughter ; 
Both  were  approved  for  deeds  of  blood  ; 


only  separate  them  for  a  time  ;  they  are 
well  assured  of  meeting  again  in  the  other 
world  never  to  part,  where  they  are  per 
suaded  they  will  have  the  same  services 
from  one  another.  Charlevoix  tells  of  an 
Indian  who  was  a  Christian,  but  who  did 
not  live  according  to  the  maxims  of  the 
gospel,  and  who,  being  threatened  with 
hell  by  a  Jesuit,  asked  this  missionary 
whether  he  thonght  his  friend  who  was 
lately  departed  had  gone  into  that  place 
of  torment;  the  father  answered  him  that 
he  had  good  grounds  to  think  that  the 
Lord  had  had  mercy  upon  him,  and  taken 
h  m  to  heaven.  "Then  I  won't  go  to 
hell,  neither/"  replied  the  Indian,  and 
this  motive  brought  him  to  do  everything 
that  was  desired  of  him  ;  that  is  to  say, 
he  would  have  been  full  as  willing  to  go 
to  hell  as  heaven  had  he  thought  to  find 
his  companion  there. 

It  is  said  that  these  friends,  when  they 
happen  to  be  at  a  distance  from  each 
other,  reciprocally  invoke  one  another  in 
all  dangers.  The  assistance  they  promise 
each  other  may  be  surely  depended  upon. 


THE   LAKE   OF   THE   WHITE    CANOE. 


107 


Both  were  fearless,  strong,  and  brave : 

One  was  a  Roanoke. 

The  other  a  captive  Maqua  boy, 

In  battle  saved  from  slaughter*— 

A  single  ear  from  a  blighted  sheaf, 

Planted  in  Aragisken  land  ;t 

And  these  two  men  were  foes, 

When  they  to  manhood  came, 

And  each  had  skill  and  strength  to  bend 

A  bow  with  a  warrior's  aim. 


*  The  following  is  the  practice  and 
ceremony  of  adoption  :  A  herald  is  sent 
around  the  village  or  camp,  to  give  notice 
that  such  as  have  lost  any  relations  in 
the  late  expedition  are  desired  to  attend 
the  distribution  which  is  about  to  take 
place.  Those  women  who  have  lost  their 
sons  or  husbands,  are  generally  satisfied 
in  the  first  place  ;  afterwards,  such  as 
have  been  deprived  of  friends  of  a  more 
remote  degree  of  consanguinity,  or  who 
choose  to  adopt  some  of  the  youth.  The 
division  being  made,  which  is  done  as  in 
other  cases  without  the  least  dispute, 
those  who  have  received  any  share  lead 
them  to  their  tents  or  huts,  and,  having 
unbound  them,  cleanse  and  dress  their 
wounds,  if  they  happen  to  have  received 
any ;  they  then  clothe  them,  and  give 
them  the  most  comfortable  and  refreshing 
food  their  store  will  afford. 

While  their  new  domestics  are  feeding, 
they  endeavor  to  administer  consolation 
to  them ;  they  tell  them  they  are  redeemed 
from  death,  they  now  must  be  cheerful 
and  happy  ;  and'  if  they  serve  them  well, 
without  murmuring  or  repining,  nothing 
shall  be  wanting  to  make  them  ^uch  a- 
tonement  for  the  loss  of  their  country 
and  friends  as  circumstances  will  allow  of. 

If  any  men  arc  spared,  they  are  com 
monly  given  to  the  widows  that  have  lost 
their  husbands  by  the  hands  of  the  enemy, 
should  there  be  any  such,  to  whom,  if 
they  happen  to  prove  agreeable,  they  are 
soon  married.  The  women  are  usually 
distibuted  to  the  men,  from  whom  they 
do  rot  fail  of  meeting  with  a  favoraple 
reception.  The  boys  and  girls  are  taken 
into  the  families  of  such  as  have  need  of 
them.  The  lot  of  their  conquerors  be 
comes  in  all  things  theirs. 


t  Virginia. 


And  to  wield  the  club  of  massy  oak 

That  a  warrior  man  should  wield, 

And  to  pride  themselves  on  a  blood  red 

And  to  deem  its  cleanness  shame,   [hand, 

Each  claimed  to  lead  the  band, 

And  angry  words  arose, 

Bat  the  warriors  chose  Red  Oak, 

Because  his  sire  was  a  Roanoke. 

Then  fill'd  the  Maqua' s  heart  with  ire 

And  out  he  spoke  : 

'  Have  his  deeds  equal' d  mine  ? 

Three  are  the  scalps  on  his  pole — * 

In  my  smoke  are  nine  ; 

I  have  fought  with  a  Cherokee  ; 

I  have  stricken  a  warrior's  blow, 

Where  the  waves  of  Ontario  roll ; 

I  have  borne  my  lance  where  he  dare  not 

I  have  looked  on  a  stunted  pine  [go; 

In  the  realms  of  endless  frost, 

And  the  path  of  the  Knistenau 

And  the  Abenaki  crost. 

While  the  Red  Oak  planted  the  land. 

It  was  mine  to  lead  the  band." 


Then  fiercely  answered  the  rival  brave, 
And  bitter  words  arose  ; 
Noisy  boasts  and  taunts, 
Menaces  and  blows,  . 

These  foolish  men  each  other  gave  ; 
And  each  like  a  panther  pants 
For  the  blood  of  his  brother  chief ; 
Each  himself  with  his  war-club  girds, 
And  forth  he  madly  goes, 
His  wrath  and  ire  to  wreak  ; 
But  the  warriors  interpose. 
Thenceforth  they  met  as  two  eagles  meet, 
When  food  for  but  one  lies  dead  at  their 
And  neither  dare  to  '\>e  the  thief ;      [feet, 
Each  is  prompt  to  show  his  ire  ; 
The  eye  of  each  is  an  eye  of  fire, 
And  trembles  each  hand  to  give 


*Scalps  are  suspended  from  a  pole  in  the 
lodge,  and  usually  in  the  smoke. 


108 


THE    LAKE    OF   THE   WHITE    CANOE. 


The  last  and  fatal  blow. 

And  thus  my  brother  may  see  them  live 

With  the  feelings  that  wolf-dogs  know. 

And  when  each  of  these  brave  men 

Had  built  himself  a  lodge, 

And  each  had  a  bird  in  his  nest, 

And  each  had  a  babe  at  his  knee, 

Their  hate  had  no  abatement  known, 

Still  each  was  his  brother's  enemy, 

And  thirsted  for  his  blood, 

And  when  those  babes  had  grown, 

The  one  to  be  a  man 

In  stature,  years,  and  soul, 

With  a  warrior's  eye  and  brow, 

And  his  poll  a  shaven  poll,  * 

And  his  step  as  a  wild  colt's  free, 

And  his  voice  like  the  winter  wind, 

Or  the  roaring  of  the  sea  ; 

The  other  a  maiden  ripe, 

With  a  woman's  tender  heart, 

Full  of  soft  and  gentle  wishes, 

Sighs  by  day  and  dreams  by  night,  ' 

Their  hostile  fathers  bade  them  roam 

Together  no  more  o'er  the  rocky  dell, 

And  through  the  woody  hollow, 

And  by  the  river  brink. 

And  o'er  the  winter  snows, 

Nor  sit  for  hours  by  the  summer  rill, 

To  watch  the  stag  as  he  came  to  drink, 

And  to  see  the  beaver  wallow, 

Nor  when  the  waters  froze, 

Have  a  pleasant  sport  to  follow, 

O'er  the  smooth  ice  ;  they  bade  them  shun 

Each  other  as  the  stars  the  sun. 


What   did  they   then— this   youth   and 

Did  they  their  fathers  mind?—     [maid? 

I  will  tell    my  brother. — 

They  met — in  secret  met — 

'T  was  not  in  the  rocky  dell, 

Nor  in  the  woody  hollow, 

Nor  by  the  river  brink, 

*  All  tiding  to  the  custom  of  the  Indian 
of  shaving  off  all  the  hair  except  the 
icalp-lock. 


Nor  o'er  the  winter  snows, 

Nor  by  the  summer  rill, 

Watching  the  stag  as  he  came  to  drink, 

And  to  see  the  beaver  wallow, 

That  these  two  lovers  met, 

Nor  when  the  waters  froze, 

GiviHg  good  sport  to  follow , 

But,  when  the  sky  was  mild, 

And  the  moon's  pale  light  was  veil'd, 

And  hushed  was  every  breeze, 

In  prairie,  village,  and  wild, 

And  the  bittern  had  stayed  his  toot, 

And  the  serpent  had  ceased  his  hiss, 

And  the  woolf  forgot  his  howl, 

And  the  owl  forbore  his  hoot, 

And  the  plaintive  wekolis,  * 

And  his  neighbor,  the  frog,  were  mute — 

Then  would  my  brother  have  heard 

A  plash  like  the  dip  of  a  water  fowl, 

In  the  lake  with  mist  so  white, 

And  the  smooth  wave  roll  to  the  bank, 

And  have  seen  the  current  stirr'd 

By  something  that  seem'd  a  White  Canoe 

Gliding  past  his  troubled  view. 

And  thus  for  moons  they  met 

By  night  on  the  tranquil  lake, 

When  darkness  veils  the  earth ; 

Nought  care  they  for  the  wolf, 

That  stirs  the  brake  on  the  bank  ; 

Nought  that  the  junipers  shake 

With  the  weight  of  the  nimble  bear, 

Nor  that  bitterns  start  by  tens, 

Nor  to  hear  the  cayman's  plash, 

Nor  the  hoot  of  the  owl  in  the  boughs  of 

Where  he  sat  so  calm  and  cool  :  [the  ash, 

And  thus  each  night  they  met, 

And  thus  a  summer  pass'd. 

Autumn  came  at  length, 
With  all  its  promised  joys, 
Its  host  of  glittering  stars, 
Its  fields  of  yellow  corn, 
Its  shrill  and  healthful  winds, 

*  Another  name  for  the  whip-poor-will. 


THE   LAKE    OF    THE    WHITE    CANOE. 


109 


Its  sports  of  field  and  flood. 

The  buck  in  the  grove  was  sleet  and  fat 

The  corn  was  ripe  and  tall ; 

Grapes  clustered  thick  on  the  vines  ; 

And  the  healing  winds  of  the  north 

Had  left  their  cells  to  breathe 

On  the  fever'd  cheeks  of  the  Roanokes, 

And  the  skies  were  lit  by  brighter  stars 

Than  light  them  in  the  time  of  summer 

Then  said  the  father  of  the  maid, 

"My  daughter,  hear — 

A  bird  has  whispered  in  my  ear, 

That,  often  in  the  midnight  hour, 

They  who  walk  in  the  shades, 

The  murky  shades,  dim,  dark,  shades, 

Shades  of  the  cypress,  pine,  and  yew, 

That  tower  above  the  glassy  lake, 

Will  see  glide  past  their  troubled  view 

Two  forms  as  a  meteor  light, 

And  will  note  a  white  canoe, 

Paddled  along  by  two, 

And  will  hear  the  words  of  a  tender  song, 

Stealing  like  a  spring- wind  along  ; 

Tell  me,  my  daughter,  il  either  be  you  ? 


Then  down  the  daughter's  cheek 

Ran  drops  like  the  summer  rain, 

And  thus  she  spoke  : 

Father,  I  love  the  valiant  Annawan  ; 

Too  long  have  we  roam'd  o'er  the  rocky 

And  through  the  woody  hollow,        [dell, 

And  by  the  river  brink, 

And  o'er  the  winter  snows, 

To  tear  him  from  my  heart ; 

Too  long  have  we  sat  by  the  summer  rill, 

To  watch  the  buck  as  he  comes  to  drink, 

And  to  see  the  beaver  wallow, 

To  live  from  him  apart — 


My  father  hears." 
"Thou  lov'st  the  son  of  my  foe, 
And  know'st  thou  not  the  wrongs 
That  foe  hath  heaped  on  me. 
The  nation  made  him  chief- 
Why  made  they  him  a  chief? 


Had  his  deeds  equal' d  mine  ? 
Three  were  the  scalps  on  his  pole- 
In  my  smoke  arc  nine  ; 
I  had  fought  with  a  Cherokee  ;   ' 
I  had  stricken  a  warrior's  blow, 
Where  the  waves  of  Ontario  roll ; 
I  had  borne  my  lance  where  he  dare  not 
I  had  looked  on  a  stunted  pine  [go. 

In  the  realms  of  endless  frost, 
And  the  path  of  the  Knistenau 
And  the  Abenaki  crost. 
While  the  .Red  Oak  planted  the  land. 
It  was  mine  to  lead  the  band." 
Since  then  we  never  spoke, 
Unless  to  utter  reproach, 
And  bandy  bitter  words  ; 
We  meet  as  two  hungry  eagles  meet, 
When  a  badger  lies  dead  at  their  feet — 
Each  would  use  a  spear  on  its  foe, 
Each  an  arrow  would  put  to  his  bow, 
And  bid  its  goal  be  his  foeman's  breast. 
But  the  warrior's  interpose, 
And  delay  the  vengeance  I  owe. 
Thou  hearest  my  words —  't  is  well. 

Then  listen  to  my  words  : 
The  soul  of  Maqua  never  cools ; 
His  ire  can  never  be  assuag'd    • 
But  with  the  smell  of  gore. 
I  thirst  for  the  Red  Oak's  blood ; 
I  live  but  for  revenge  ; 
Thou  shalt  not  wed  his  son  : 
Choose  thee  a  mate  elsewhere, 
And  see  ye  that  ye  roam  no  more 
By  night  o'er  the  rocky  dell, 
And  through  the  woody  hollow, 
But  when  the  sun  its  eyelids  closes, 
See  that  thine  the  example  follow." 

And  the  fathcrof  the  youth 
Spake  thus  unto  his  son : 
"  A  bird  has  whispered  in  my  car, 
That  when  the  stars  have  gone  to  rest, 
And  the  moon  her  eyelids  hath  clos'd. 
Who  walk  beside  the  lake 


110 


THE   LAKE   OF   THE   WHITE   CANOE. 


Will  see  glide  past  their  troubled  view 

Two  forms  as  a  meteor  light, 

And  will  note  a  white  canoe, 

Paddled  along  by  two, 

And  will  hear  the  words  of  a  tender  song 

Stealing  like  a  spring- wind  along  ; 

Tell  me,  my  son,  ii  either  be  you  ? 

Then  answer' d  the  valiant  son, 

"  Mine  is  a  warrior's  soul, 

And  mine  is  an  arm  of  strength ; 

I  scorn  to  tell  a  lie  ; 

The  bird  has  told  thee  true. 

And,  father,  hear  my  words  : 

I  now  have  come  to  man's  estate  ; 

who  can  bend  the  sprout  of  the  oak, 

Of  which  my  bow  is  made  ? 

Who  can  poise  my  choice  of  spears, 

To  me  but  a  slender  reed  ? 

I  fain  would  build  myself  a  lodge, 

And  take  to  that  lodge  a  wife  ; 

And  father,  hear  thy  son — 

I  love  the  Maqua's  daughter." 

"Thou  lov'st  the  daughter  of  my  foe ; 

And  know'stthounot  the  taunts 

His  tongue  hath  heap'd  on  me  ; 

The  nation  made  me  chief, 

Ajid  thence  his  ire  arose  ; 

Thence  came  foul  wrongs  and  blows, 

And  neither  yet  avenged. 

He  boasted  that  his  fame  exceeded  mine  : 

Three,  he  said,  were  the  scalps  on  my  pole 

While  in  his  lodge  were  nine — 

He  did  not  tell  how  many  I  struck, 

Nor  spoke  of  my  constancy, 

When  the  Nansemonds  tore  my  flesh, 

With  burning  pincers  tore  ; 

And  he  said  he  had  fought  with  a  Chero- 

Aud  had  struck  a  warrior's  blow,      [kee, 

Where  the  waves  of  Ontario  roll, 

And  had  borne  his  lance  where  I  dare  not 

And  had  looked  on  a  stunted  pine       [go; 

In  the  realms  of  endless  frost, 

And  the  path  of  the  Knistenau 


And  the  Abenaki  crost. 
While,— bitter  taunt !— cruel  taunt ! 
And  for  it  I'll  drink  his  blood, 
And  eat  him  broil' d  on  fire — 
The  Red  Oak  planted  his  land, 
It  was  his  to  lead  the  band. 


"And  listen  further  to  my  words — 
My  wrath  can  never  be  assuaged  ; 
Thou  shalt  not  wed  his  daughter, 
Choose  thee  a  wife  elsewhere  ; 
Choose  thee  one  anywhere, 
Save  in  the  Maqna's  lodge. 
The  Nansemonds  have  maidens  fair, 
With  bright  black  eyes,  and  long  black 
And  voice  like  the  music  of  rills  ;    [locks 
The  Chippewa  girls  of  the  frosty  north 
Have  feet  like  the  nimble  antelopes, 
That  bound  on  their  native  hills  ; 
And  their  voice  is  like  the  dove's  in  spring 
Take  one  of  those  doves  to  thy  cage  ; 
But  see  no  more  by  day  or  night, 
The  Maqua  warrior's  daughter." 
And  haughtily  he  turned  away. 

Night  was  abroad  on  the  earth : 
Mists  were  over  the  face  of  the  moon, 
And  the  stars  were  like  the  sparkling  flies 
That  twinkle  in  the  prairie  glades, 
[n  my  brother's  month  of  June  ; 
And  hideous  forms  had  risen  ; 
The  spirits  of  the  swamp 
Had  come  from  their  caverns  dark  and 
Where  the  slimy  currents  flow,        [deep 
With  the  serpent  and  wolf  to  romp, 
And  to  whisper  in  the  sleeper's  ear 
Of  death  and  danger  near. 


Then  to  the  margin  of  the  lake 

A  beauteous  maiden  came ; 

Tall  she  was  as  a  youthful  fir, 

Upon  the  river's  bank  ; 

3er  step  was  the  step  of  the  antelope  ; 

Her  eye  was  the  eye  of  the  doe ; 


THE   LAKE    OF    THE    WHITE    CANOE. 


Ill 


Her  hair  was  black  as  a  coal-black  horse  : 

Her  hand  was  plump  and  small ; 

Her  foot  was  slender  and  small ; 

And  her  voice  was  the  voice  of  a  rill  in 

Of  the  rill's  most  gentle  song,  [the  moon. 

Beautiful  lips  had  she, 

Ripe,  red  lips, 

Lips  like  the  flow'r  that  the  honey-bee  sips 

When  its  head  is  bow'd  by  dew. 


She  stood  beneath  the  shade 

Of  the  dark  and  lofty  trees, 

That  threw  the  image  on  the  lake, 

And  waited  long  in  silence  there. 

"Why  comes  he  not,  my  Annawan, 

My  lover  brave  and  true  ? 

He  knows  his  maiden  waits  for  him 

Beneath  the  shade  of  the  yew, 

To  paddle  the  lake  in  her  White  Canoe." 

But  Annawan  came  not; 

'He  has  miss' d  me  sure,"  the  maiden  said , 

"And  skims  the  lake  alone ; 

Dark  though  it  be,  and  the  winds  are  high^ 

I'll  seek  my  warrior  there." 

Then  lightly  to  her  white  canoe 

The  fair  Pequida  sprung, 

And  is  gone  from  the  shore  alone. 


Loud  blew  the  mighty  winds, 

The  clouds  were  dense  and  black, 

Thunders  rolled  among  the  hills, 

Lightnings  flash' d  through  the  shades; 

The  spirits  cried  aloud 

Their  melancholy  cries, 

Cries  which  assail  the  listening  ear 

When  danger  and  death  are  near  : 

Who  is  he  that  stands  on  the  shore, 

Uttering  sounds  of  grief? 

'T  is  Annawan,  the  favor'd  youth, 

Detain' d  so  long  lest  envious  eyes 

Should  know  wherefore  at  midnight  hour 

He  seeks  the  lake  alone. 

He  finds  the  maiden  gone, 

And  anguish  fills  his  soul, 

And  yet,  perchance  in  childish  sport, 


She  hides  among  the  groves. 

Loudly  he  calls,  "My  maiden  fair, 

Thy  Annawan  is  here  ! 

Where  art  thou  maid  with  the  coal-black 

What  does  thy  bosom  fear  ?  [hair  ? 

If  thou  hast  hid  in  playful  mood 

In  the  shade    of  the  pine,    or   cypress 

wood, 

If  the  little  heart  that  so  gently  heaves 
Is  lightly  pressing  a  bed  of  leaves  ; 
Tell  me,  maiden,  by  thy  voice 
Bid  thy  lover's  heart  rejoice  ; 
Ope  on  him  thy  starry  eyes  / 
Let  him  clasp  the  in  his  arms, 
Press  thy  ripe  red  lips  to  his. 
Come,  my  fair  Pequida,  come  !" 

No  answer  meets  the  warrior's  ears, 
But  glimmering  o'er  the  lake  appears 
A  solitary,  twinkling  light- 
It  seems  a  fire-fly  lamp ; 
It  moves  with  motion  quick  and  strange 
Over  the  broad  lake's  breast. 
The  lover  sprung  to  his  light  canoe, 
And  swiftly  followed  the  meteor  spark, 
But  the  winds  were  high,  and  the  clouds 
He  could  not  find  the  maid,     [were  dark. 
Nor  near  the  glittering  lamp. 

He  went  to  his  father's  lodge. 

And  laid  him  on  the  earth, 

Calmly  laid  him  down. 

Words  he  spoke  to  none, 

Looks  bestow'd  on  none. 

They  bro't  him  food  —he  would  not  eat— 

They  brought  him  drink — he  would  not 

drink — 

They  brought  him  a  spear  and  a  bow, 
And  a  club,  and  an  arrowy  sheaf. 
And  shouted  the  cry  of  war, 
And  prais'd  him,  and  nam'd  him  a  Chief, 
And  told  how  the  treacherous  Nanticokes 
Had  slain  three  Braves  of  the  Roanokes  5 
That  a  man  of  the  tribe  who  never  ran 
Had  vow'd  to  war  on  the  Red  Oak's  son — 
But  he  show'd  no  signs  of  wrath. 


112 


THE   LAKE    OF   THE    WHITE    CANOE. 


His  thoughts  Were  abroad  in  another  path.  By  him  who  sleeps  in  that  swamp, 


Sudden  he  sprung  to  his  feet, 

Like  an  arrow  impell'd  by  a  vigorous  arm 

"You  have  dug  her  grave,"  said  he4 

"In  "a  spot  too  cold  and  damp, 

All   too  cold  and  damp, 

For  a  soul  so  warm  and  true. 

Where,  think  ye,  her  soul  has  gone  ? 

Gone  to  the  Lake  of  the  Dismal  Swainp, 

Where  all  night  long  by  a  fire-fly  lamp, 

She  paddles  her  White  Canoe. 

And  thither  I  will  go  !" 

And  with  that  he  took  his  quiver  and  bow. 

And  bade  them  all  adieu. 

And  the  youth  returned  no  more  ; 
And  the  maiden  returned  no  more ; 
Alive  none  saw  them  more  ; 
But  oft  their  spirits  are  seen 


When  the  night's  dim  lamps  are  veil'd, 
And  the  Hunter's  Star  is  hid, 
And  the  moon  has  shut  her  lid, 
And  the  she-wolf  stirs  the  brake, 
And  the  bitterns  start  by  tens. 
And  the  slender  junipers  shake 
With  the  weight  of  the  nimble  bear, 
And  the  pool  resounds  with  the  cayman'a 
plash,  [ash, 

And  the  owl  sings  out  of  the  boughs  of  the 
Where  he  sits  so  calm  and  cool, 
And  above  his  head  the  inuckawiss 
Sing;;  his  gloomy  song, 
And  croak  the  frogs  in  the  pool, 
And  he  hears  at  his  feet  the  horn  snake's 
Then  often  flit  along  [hiss, 

The  shades  of  the  youth  and  maid  so  true 
That  haunt  the  Lake  of  the  White  Canoe. 


CO 

oo 


1 


o 


l 


PQ 

+3 

o 
^ 


.0   ',1 


O 
03 


<x> 

.s 

<D 


CQ 


Caylord  Bros. 

Makers 

Syracuse,  N.  Y. 
PAT  JAN.  21,  1908 


